unravel me

tired eyes in tired face

of tired wistful want

of needing arms and wanting lips

need still the silent haunt

broken shoulders bearing down

a weight of all else fail

stooping low to lift all up

upstream with tattered sail

hands that bear unseemly heft

scratched and bloodied though

still know just, how to make sweet love

blow after searing blow

cant help but think of moving tides

of waves that peak and rise

and gather in soft wanting self

to see with undone eyes.

 

About lifeofawillow

lifeofawillow.wordpress.com
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s