Somnambulist
after the sky drops.
The walking corpses come out
the veil of night masks
the decay
the rot
of humanity
Plague of the earth.
Found from the ashes
My phoenix we bled
Has she ever
thought love between
us, inside
her, filled up an empty bed.
No longer bereft,
somnolence
and love drowns my head.
Convalescent
Bemire emotion
I wash and rinse
what is left,
asking what we are
if no longer
dead?
Gold from lead.
The lifting sky
Our connubial affair.
The truths, I face,
we share,
She Said.
"when will it die?"
closing empty space
A diffident devotion
Within her embrace
a softly recited
poem unread
berceuse
tantric lullaby
healing the blighted
fading destiny to refuse
to claim or to lose.
An onus I malinger..
to choose.
Execration
of an inner fatalist
hopeless abuse.
Quantum entanglement
schismatic resentment
prepossessed
inspiring muse
of the alchemists
A bibulous creation
intimate turpitude.
sovereignty
asunder this hell
her orbit with abaddon.
Dissolution
her need to dispel
incertitude.
Inordinate.
Gravity well
collapsing in on itself
eternal
infinite
end
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Copyright © Joel Thornton | Year Posted 2014
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