Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2020
i look within the mirror     (things are not looking good)
a mind of a man;  a soul of    a woman:  when my dreams
stretch out love surrenders.    
My body, savaged by pain   (i am as a peasant)
undermines Love.
  -- makes romantic spirits
leap into the bottom of a
deep chasm of Earth.
   The soul can never get old    a marching army of night
invaded me as a weapon; but as i breath i repel
the hordes with my heat
i sought a woman so strong
,      intelligent and soft: a body of skin, of fire,
of firm and thirsty milk!    
i hold her bountiful *******  ! and hug warm and womanhood.
   still i feel i am sinking:
   so now you know.  my thirst  and desire for woman without
end -- a wavering tight road!
   so now.  I know there are cemeteries so lonely, for my kind.  
   Dead bones that do not move.  but all dead and
   living hearts move through a tunnel!

:: 09.09.2020 ::
EP Robles
Written by
EP Robles
178
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems