The lunacy of
touching you, to plug a-
hole, in your innocence.
I wanted to explore
the horizon in your eyes,
where sun meets moon,
in graveyard of sins
and virtues.
Before you had become
my shadow, I used to smell
a distant scent coming
from a slithering
wet body.
I fumble for the words
for mercy of pain. My desert
was once a sea.
Dec 7, 2019
Dec 7, 2019 at 10:02 PM UTC
The lunacy of
touching you, to plug a-
hole, in your innocence.
I wanted to explore
the horizon in your eyes,
where sun meets moon,
in graveyard of sins
and virtues.
Before you had become
my shadow, I used to smell
a distant scent coming
from a slithering
wet body.
I fumble for the words
for mercy of pain. My desert
was once a sea.