Innocent

You call ‘er a dream

One you crave when your eyes are open,

A little flashback that steals you.

In a moment, you take a trip with your senses

You name an odour after her

Because she- in her way- is alluring,

Something that’s stuck on your cloth and skin,

Something, sharper than knives, shining

Stark, piercing like a glorious sin,

Deeper, that lunges, to touch your thoughts.

You hear her laughter amid the silence,

After a turbulent lonely night

It is fine, they excuse you, young one:

The stars, the sun and the moons

For they know what it means

To shed light on a ground and never

Be there to feel it, never a bit close.

No one creature dares to accuse

A human of longing-

What else then, if not for wistful love-

Makes us, in our flesh, called ‘the living’?

Reviews

[Tbear]

Oh my word that really was so lovely! 'To shed light on a ground and never Be there to feel it, never a bit close.' Your wording and feeling so accurate... Will be following you ...write on..

[Mélania Woolf]

Oh thank you so much for the kind words! Glad you liked it!