Open Doors to Closed Eyes

by Faithless Watermelon   Aug 25, 2016


A city
(indistinctly)
falling through water
to places on offer
where flames stitch questions
upon gossamer promises;
sexless dominance
and unkempt wonder
brew idle galaxies
from salted thunder.

Biting and bitter,
truth's a-titter;
smelling me and telling me:
evergreen,
unsewn,
dethroned,
gently cleaned and
threshed and gleaned -
that ego is immense
in title.

And away we go
with senses
entitled.
I'm not alone here:
lonely and sincere.

I've done the crime
and sneer,
I'm bound to skulk
and leer,
and this is that
but
black is night
and that's a wrap.

Hope is mired
behind blue lips
and power's shallow
when reigned by hips.
Who do you think
I am
to know
my stifled self?

Books don't burn
untouched.
Books don't burn
untouched.
Pages turn
untouched.
We can use each other
to reach that shelf.

Water hugs broken lungs.
Black and blank
wings furled and cold
inspire lust untold
with time to thank.

5


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Latest Comments

  • 7 years ago

    by Em

    Wow is all I can say!!

  • 7 years ago

    by Brenda

    Totally blown away!

  • 7 years ago

    by ether

    This is brilliant. So brilliant I wish I could hear it read out loud instead of reading it because I think that's what this calls for - which is a feeling I get only when reading poetry of a very high calibre. I love the form, the fragmented rhyme (and fragmented sentences) and the metaphor of "salted thunder". 5/5

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