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miss-tabitha-devereauxPoems
I recall, until my head pounds, by the tides I shall be led, the landscape of your body in the ocean of our bed. Among terraforming bedclothes, old fires leapt anew, my scent was freshly salted by the minerals of you. Blood catches pace and thunders this sea is not so kind, the ancient powers rise to claim all the helpless they can find. Headlong unto the harden'd shore by joyous, raging speed carried into ecstasy my nose begins to bleed. Small roses bloom upon you as you wipe the scarlet spots. So I will lie here, shipwrecked, 'til the pounding stops. I cannot see another spit of coast or island land from the vantage point of head tipped back ceiling sky and pinching hand. The creaking timbers echo with the lifting of your chest, "ssh, don't move, it's stopping" so I close my eyes, and rest. Awakened from a slumber without dreams or care, I find a lonely rosebud dried within my hair. Your eyes contain the oceans, shifting immortality your fingers are still bloodstained salt and blood, that's you and me.
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Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 9:22 AM UTC
Nosebleed
I recall, until my head pounds, by the tides I shall be led, the landscape of your body in the ocean of our bed. Among terraforming bedclothes, old fires leapt anew, my scent was freshly salted by the minerals of you. Blood catches pace and thunders this sea is not so kind, the ancient powers rise to claim all the helpless they can find. Headlong unto the harden'd shore by joyous, raging speed carried into ecstasy my nose begins to bleed. Small roses bloom upon you as you wipe the scarlet spots. So I will lie here, shipwrecked, 'til the pounding stops. I cannot see another spit of coast or island land from the vantage point of head tipped back ceiling sky and pinching hand. The creaking timbers echo with the lifting of your chest, "ssh, don't move, it's stopping" so I close my eyes, and rest. Awakened from a slumber without dreams or care, I find a lonely rosebud dried within my hair. Your eyes contain the oceans, shifting immortality your fingers are still bloodstained salt and blood, that's you and me.
miss-tabitha-devereaux
Written by
miss-tabitha-devereaux
English
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 9:22 AM UTC
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