deepundergroundpoetry.com
Perfume, shadow, berry-tart
Like a poem, you are writ in the senses:
Perfume, shadow, berry-tart against the skin,
Sussurations at my earlobes and touch of smoky jinn
Blending into your presence.
Like an unforgettable song, your lovemaking repeats
In odd moments later; sipping a cold coffee perhaps.
Had we not fucked, nothing but nothing fills the gaps
Blending into your absence.
Numbed and dumb, blinded, deaf, tasteless and wan
The legacy of shells and hollows and nights long passed
Return as words spill from my grasp
And dust motes mate in the air again.
Perfume, shadow, berry-tart against the skin,
Sussurations at my earlobes and touch of smoky jinn
Blending into your presence.
Like an unforgettable song, your lovemaking repeats
In odd moments later; sipping a cold coffee perhaps.
Had we not fucked, nothing but nothing fills the gaps
Blending into your absence.
Numbed and dumb, blinded, deaf, tasteless and wan
The legacy of shells and hollows and nights long passed
Return as words spill from my grasp
And dust motes mate in the air again.
Published 8th Oct 2018
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