deepundergroundpoetry.com

The alchemist and the urn

Words hurt

Distance matters or not

The root of unfocus
and dreams of locust ridden expanse
of dying gold under dancing gray

The mind envisions and constructs
Blood travels, rushing and gushing

I pour myself into every nook and cranny
you melt in the hard nothing but me
The potted plants and the beaded hair
the morning cup of Darjeeling with ginger

Every act
every moment is
a memory
a scene
a portrait
a bubble

We are a cocoon
a multiverse

My eyes are your nest
your womb is
my abode
my coffin

Every time my fingers
run thru
you surrender
and the color runs deep

de-fleshed, de-boned, deconstructed

You move beneath me
and the ground moves beneath

You are

prime
supine
un-prosaic

We testify
celebrate

We

run amok
chortle
and pant

We

crash into
the twilight forest

and catch escaped dreams
while they slide down
from the soaking black
of unconscious -afloat

You shed a few drops
and your lips scorch my skin
-fulfilled, adjoined

We are the Siamese twins
of soul love

You want me to be
within you-forever
It is but an empty room
with high walls
and distant voices
and noises of love, despair

Something bursts within and
fireballs radiate
I cling to your edible knees
and ride the supertide
with eyes closed
and my soul trapdoor opens

You

glisten
glow
germinate

And let the pain caress,
undress

Inside it is
a bleeding yin and yang
of white and crimson

The tapestry
of lukewarm love.
Written by Whitewand6
Published | Edited 28th Dec 2011
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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