deepundergroundpoetry.com
Larissa
I dreamed of you
Again the other night.
Sixteen tattoos counted,
Eight on either thigh.
And I don’t afford myself
The chance to reason why.
(Were they feigned lovers
You bled dry?
Or voracious wolves, that
Gnawed as you cried?
But, no.
I need no reasons why.)
For you, my arms
Remain spread wide
There is a place in my heart,
For you.
A place that does not die.
Again the other night.
Sixteen tattoos counted,
Eight on either thigh.
And I don’t afford myself
The chance to reason why.
(Were they feigned lovers
You bled dry?
Or voracious wolves, that
Gnawed as you cried?
But, no.
I need no reasons why.)
For you, my arms
Remain spread wide
There is a place in my heart,
For you.
A place that does not die.
Published 29th Jun 2022
Author's Note
It was a tragic and awe-filled dream. I woke, gasping. This is a confession she’ll never see.
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