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Camellia

forever alone-

even in the midst of my fellows

I am alone-

how I long to know the gentle caress

of your warm hands

how I wish to know the answer to the question:

is every one of my kind as alone as I?

 

I lay in wait for just a hint of your presence.

This cold and damp room

I have been deposited to

offers no condolences of comfort.

Thankless mortuary of life,

grounding point for unending successions of failure.

Mold grows abundant and varied on every surface,

forever feeding,

forever decaying-

forever reminding- the self defense I practice

is no match for time.

 

I have surrendered myself to your will

you repay my penance with stoic indifference,

how I curse my fate, to be stuck in this condition

stuck in this form

stuck in this cycle of irrelevance

where my purpose is as obscured as your presence-

I know it is there- I catch glimmers of it,

wafting on fumes of promise

welling up through my limbs-

yet, as I try to focus on its sweetness, it melts away

and my condition teeters on the realization of the futility of my dreams,

dreams that perhaps there is something in this world I may possess,

something exempt from this foetid destiny of decay.

 

I pray to you every day- you bestow to me sustenance, delivered

within the few short moments of clarity

when your benevolence washes over my limbs

and that chill is abated, temporarily.

 

oh love I need you

I need you

I need you

I need you-oh-

I need you now...

 

The joy you give me wells up in my core-

it spirals through my body in radiant fumes

arousing within me an electricity

which charges and grows, crackling and rippling through my being-

 

Your weightless touch

caresses the supple flesh of my newly unfurled limbs

your heat makes my lust ignite

until my rapture bursts and floods fragrantly out of my body

through small delicate folds soft as angel’s lips

burning crimson flames in contrast to the relentless leaden landscape.

 

 

Much like my prayers,

these too wither and evaporate back into the rimple of your coat of infinite possibility.

I am left broken, exploited by a purpose

that has been kept hidden from me.

Fate has decreed I must blossom during winter

serving as a beacon to the world around me,

I implore you my beloved, who will serve as my beacon?

Who will lend vibrance to my dismal soul

when the skies are gray

and the cold lingers ever-present like a blade to the throat?

 

oh love I need you

I need you

I need you

I need you-oh-

I need you now...

 

I continue to endure

these seasons of deception.

The offerings of my flesh, my soul, my intentions

are hung in severe strings

as reminders of the union I may never have

reminders that I will never be as perfect as I know is possible-

that most of my dreams

will miscarry to oblivion and their potentials as realities will slip away as fast as the thoughts that carried them-

slip away as fast as the memory of my existence.

 

the only thing keeping me from joining you

is me

my form, this body, this anchor to the Earth.

In spite of this forlorn existence, I try to brighten my world-

my offerings are these poems of flesh,

frail and transient

moments of sublimity

apices of material existence

bridges to the divine

 

Exercises in wishfulness do nothing to change states.

What I truly desire is freedom,

freedom from these roots

freedom from hunger

freedom from wishes

freedom from these interminable winters

freedom from this sadness

freedom from this life

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Written by
l-k-eaton
Published
May 25, 2013
Lines·Words
91·616
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