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Stricture
cut away the slack lines
let me drift in this tide
our sable blood has cooled
now our thoughts
congealed and settled
the sediments of trust
that sparkle of lust
like elmo fire gleaming
our our skins
I want a winter Love
a fire for the damp rains
and cold touch that
wind seeks
what my hunger slakes
like a gambler jittered
on such desired stakes
and If I dream restless
and haunted alone
at least the cold light
of morn will find my
footrail sure and steady
as I take the hunt
aborne of want
and taste
to the lovely wastelands
of the most valuable
tradgic beauty
...
Editing stage:
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Comments
Esker
Sun, 2011-08-07 13:41
notions and potions
so much effort in desire
adulation and adoration
costs everything
words indeed are not spilled cheap
but nothing is free
nothing
so freedom becomes everything
that beauty of that sword
so I seek
so I shall find
everlasting
exhultations
Esker
Sun, 2011-08-07 13:48
"sparkle of lust.."
"is on our skins like Elmo Fire gleaming"
reworked should read like that..