a sheer curtain caught in a crossfire,
i stand here,
pure,
still,
and burning tenderly —
burning softly before your eyes.
i liken myself
to a child's laughter falling
on patches of sunlight —
to persephone giving in
to the licking flames,
but she is no more than
a fading ghost,
and my skin —
no more than a haunted woodland.
i hold on to the flames,
to this perplexity:
how can immolation
look so soft,
so cleansing,
so **** hypnotic?
when it feels everything but.
a sheer curtain caught in a crossfire,
i stand here,
pure,
still,
burning tenderly
into oblivion —
just as softly before your eyes.
Apr 5, 2021
Apr 5, 2021 at 4:14 AM UTC
a sheer curtain caught in a crossfire,
i stand here,
pure,
still,
and burning tenderly —
burning softly before your eyes.
i liken myself
to a child's laughter falling
on patches of sunlight —
to persephone giving in
to the licking flames,
but she is no more than
a fading ghost,
and my skin —
no more than a haunted woodland.
i hold on to the flames,
to this perplexity:
how can immolation
look so soft,
so cleansing,
so **** hypnotic?
when it feels everything but.
a sheer curtain caught in a crossfire,
i stand here,
pure,
still,
burning tenderly
into oblivion —
just as softly before your eyes.
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