A LOVE POEM

You are a wound
I return to
again and again, 
a bruise that blooms
in the darkness 
of my chest. 
Your touch
is a sacrament, 
a promise of ruin.
In the hollow 
of your neck, 
I find a terrain
of wonder and terror. 
You are a disaster 
I've chosen, 
a storm I've learned to navigate.
Your body 
a threshold I cross
into the country 
of my own undoing
where the borders of myself 
are rewritten
in the ink of 
your fingers.
I find you everywhere;
a torn sleeve
a lost button, 
a fragment of your hair
lodged in the weave 
of my shirt.
Your eyes, 
two wells 
I fall into
and emerge, 
remade, 
as if the water
had washed away 
the everything 
I am drawn of 
and I was new, 
uncharted and soft.
I am
a river that 
has changed course, 
a mountain
that has shifted its peak.
I am a landscape
transformed, 
rewritten, 
reborn.
Your absence 
is a door
I keep trying to open
but it only leads to 
more emptiness,
more hunger.
I am a hunger 
that cannot be fed.
I am a silence
that longs to be broken.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

THE BOOK OF SETHI