you know my excesses / delilah / for the bleeding abscesses / of sunsets strung
together
you and I we tasted the soft meat of our virgin hearts / wasted blind drunk in an absinthe state of sex and regret / and I whispered and may even have worshiped you / delilah
I tried to wash the veins of dead leaves / from my cold feet but they roiled
and uncoiled / and still crossed the border and folded across your clean / parquet floor and
I suppose
our limbs mashed in a tarantula pose / we rose and fell and slept in veneration in our clothes
like a dance
in a trance
and still I ask
is if you know that I wish I was as certain of God / as I am of death / and of you /
and who / just this once / is thus subdued under a spill of moon / that traces our bed
and warms our faces /
delilah
Nice poem. “The soft meat of our virgin hearts,” oh that’s good.
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Thank you, I appreciate that. π
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This is great! Raw, edgy but beautiful imagery.
Right up my street! π€π€
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Thank you, I’m glad you liked it. π
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I certainly did! ππ€
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This is fantastic, Steven!
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Thank you, Basilike! That means a lot to me.
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Wow, Steven. I got caught up in this work and love every line.
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Thanks so much, Mary. π
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Loved this, Steven. The imagery, the honesty, and the form.
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Thank you, Diana. π
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Wow Steven!
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Thank you, Kristiana. π
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