deepundergroundpoetry.com
On Your lines
it's dying of love
to stop
still frame etched
on burning eyelids
barely opened
grazing your skin
or another profile
breaking out
to crash tremours
very long
from the nape of the neck
to earth and back
if you dust me with snow
on the sun drenched road
me
I hear myself
breath broken
like a dried drop
if I bump into a
whatever breath
I claw
my hot flashed mind
to scratch the light
that shatters the dams
overflowing the I know not
bewitched
that vibrant gaze
between modesty and lust
to sacrifice my senses
on your lines
to stop
still frame etched
on burning eyelids
barely opened
grazing your skin
or another profile
breaking out
to crash tremours
very long
from the nape of the neck
to earth and back
if you dust me with snow
on the sun drenched road
me
I hear myself
breath broken
like a dried drop
if I bump into a
whatever breath
I claw
my hot flashed mind
to scratch the light
that shatters the dams
overflowing the I know not
bewitched
that vibrant gaze
between modesty and lust
to sacrifice my senses
on your lines
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