#stigmata
Recently you descried that
The hands of mine were
Full of crimson scars,
Like the beads of a rosary.
”What are these wounds
On your palm?” you asked.
”Were they caused by
The elisabethian roses of your garden?”
I said nothing, just (but) smiled blushingly,
But then later, while you fell asleep,
I leaned closely and whispered
My secret in your ears:
„In fact, all of these are
Stigmata of our love.
But possessing them makes me happy;
I wear them proudly.”
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 2:21 PM UTC
etched under my skin
flame roses blister
scars on the palms
of my hands bleed
stigmata thorns
my eyes freeze to crystal
the tears around my neck are
fashioned in lace black obsidian
my lips - the color of amber
and fire - are vows
never broken
my moons are scarlet
my stars are cold
my sun is silver
and beaten GOLD
soulsurvivor
9/16/2014
~~~
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 9:37 AM UTC