Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Broken

Nothing but wind to disrupt the natural patterns
Of a life lived secular, strong, devout.

Birdsong and coffee, bond me to the morning
It is a clean life, away from the machination of others
Pushed out and for miles in revolt of mankind;
Forged metal and hinges that squeak from use
Careless hands, unwelcome.

This imagined world holds room for one
One, along with one mind - expanding.

Hold fast to this assumption
That eventually, time will afford itself
The luxury of love, touched with purpose.
Purpose, poignant, licked everywhere
Proportionally- welcome.

The day loosens its scripted intent
Formality dissolves as gentle reminders take flight

The birdsong turned amorous now knows envy
The verdigris of 'lack-of-use' glows,
Warm skin coos for company as the old standard dies out
Encrypted in logic, layers of understanding
Flake away softly at first, aware of growling silence

Then, slowly, the quiet bangs drums and every hemline I own bewitches me.
I'm fucked by overbearing needs, demanding yield

Meet me down the familiar road that only you and I know
Touch me without speaking,
Your hands trace over this neckline of mine-
Landing with a boom,
All ache breaks free

Fever-
Broken.


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