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You were the water
   I needed to quench my thirst
   When the desert inside me was too cruel
You are the water
   Found overflowing in my lungs
   Collapsing my breathing, ending my life
Copyright under Bianca Reyes
Shared on Hello Poetry on
May 28, 2016
the cold
       Winter
frost has
   thawed &
       we witness
the difference
of a darkness
     lifted
by a celestial
    guest encasing
our flesh in it's
golden
silhouette,
reminding us
there's
still hope
        yet.
Started with words as most things do.
anger escalated to yelling and swearing.
She came at me, fire and hate in her eyes,
This petite little woman I called my wife.
Her fists pounding my face and chest.
Shocked more than hurt, I extended my
arm to hold her off.

No man could ever do what she just did,
Not without my strong physical rebuke.
Yet I turned not a hand to this woman I loved.
A day before I would have taken a bullet for her,
and now it appears she'ed **** me if she could.

How does Committed Love so quickly turn to this?
So it would seem, love is not even skin deep.
My father warned me of this fact, a truth
I refused to hear, and upon him I had turned
my back and chosen her.

To her disrespect and abuse,
I did what any decent man would do,
I walked out the door and never returned.
Relax friends, thankfully this is not truly autobiographical.
Yet it does happen all too often, just did to a young friend
of ours. Abuse is not merely a male disease. Girls and
women too, can and are infected. A learned behavior,
a sad family legacy passed down from damaged parents.
I am made for love
        simply to be swallowed
inside flame
but without burning
too crisply
         feeling just east of
too much pain
I would **** it all down
I would take it all in
I would ingest that
         subtly powerful potion
fling inhibition
to the winds
run through storms
and swim through
          murky, wild ocean
I would don both wings and
antler, or horns
just to show you my
            animal instinct
I would sniff you out
in a hidden thicket
of thorns
even if physically
it's distant
I would sway my hips
join the gypsies
             in their dance
I would get naked
in the river,
hypnotized by the moon's
            seductive trance
I would cross the
longitudinal division
to cup my hands
around your face
slice through *******
         with quick precision  
if it threatened
our sacred space
I would take my sword
and cut any signal
that destroyers
              laid in path
I would challenge
the logical probabilities
of looking into your eyes
or placing my hands
upon you
(so **** what if it defies
                the math)      
The glorious point
of what I am saying
as I trip myself
through you and
fully live it
is that my stars ignite
the power
of this
liberation of
            tightened,
connected spirit
and I am not giving up
I am not succumbing
to the sirens' call
              of demise
Just watch me
bound out
from behind
the slippery
precipice
and see
my spirit rise
I finally realised
we here are a weaved community

weaved poets
within weaved songs

and no-one poem
stands on its own
here be Humanity... in her daily struggles, and ecstasy
a jaw hinges open and shut
open and shut
open and shut
and a tongue licks lips
wetting a dry desert
and a poet sings
out the depths of silence
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