A thread of poems
Loves thirst
And in my pain
you felt me diing
diing for your thirst
gentle at first the fever spread
the dillusion bread
but the trembling never subsided
stillborn is the love that lay there malnourished
frozen cracks, the setiment that was never spoken
broken slivers of glass chalices over dripping with the whines of my final laughter
Dream with me
lavish my true intentions
bring great gulps of satisfaction to my dried cracked lips
stained is the purity of the non release
the release that was held tight and beaten
the release that was forever told to be upon great blankets of burden
the same burdens that cover the chills of lonely nights
stumbling comes the words that were never spoken.
instead transerred in to the language of spurts and girgles.
great nightmares dancing within the folds of evolution
And these nectors that you prepare before, needed to cure the diing thirst
no longer gentle the fever still spreads
__________________
~Esen
What is everyone doing in my room?
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