Virus

Im the void you whisper your fears into
Your secrets
Your nightmares
Your pain
I am the muse rising from the shadows
Soft as an inky fog
Subtle and cool on your skin
Weaving translucent tendrils thru your veins
Touching every part of your heart
Spreading rampant and wide open like a plague
Infecting you with hope
With inspiration
With love
Consuming your body
Just to touch your soul

Reviews

[Vol]

GG,
When I studied literary modernism, I learned there was a cultural need to rediscover a place to plant our feet... thus the great proliferation of important poets from, oh, 1915 to about 1945. One of my favorites from that time believed that the answer to the fragmentation of everything in our society was SENSUALITY. D. H. Lawrence said in sweet, explicit ways that there is nothing more important than this moment right now, that we should take a bite of every encounter with beauty and let some of the juice run over our lips and down, then wipe our chins on our sleeves...

Aware

Slowly the moon is rising out of the ruddy haze,
Divesting herself of her golden shift, and so
Emerging white and exquisite; and I in amaze
See in the sky before me, a woman I did not know
I loved, but there she goes and her beauty hurts my heart;
I follow her down the night, begging her not to depart.

D. H. Lawrence
1885 –
1930

Vol

[Davidgeo]

Existence is a strange place to fall in love in.

This is exquisite work.

[John the Baptist]

Sounds like the voice of the subconscious mind speaking, but maybe it's a lover speaking of a kind of dominance. Can't tell if these are words of comfort or of threat.