From the Marrow
Clouds dim from a fevered night
bare as skin of dragonflies’ grasp,
and I pace along tattered leaves strewn
on barbed fences of life moaning
through a distant breeze: yet the candle
burns inside my heart to feed
dire hunger of jailed souls....
There, street women circle around
in a furnace of hope...on a barren lane
where mangled sparrows cry in despise;
and my will to plod an inner odyssey rages,
searching for some need
to fill breaths of peace not for myself
but for a biting desire I cannot explain,
that my own pain hollers from the marrow...
the kind that flames the stars and rain.
John Lawless' Bite Me
6/8/2015
~ inspiration from Les Miserables
as gleaned from my gender counseling
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2015
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