seraphim

like a breath, like a wraith over water

in your hands, my bloody lamb’s slaughter

they lead me down the River Styx to take her to die

you will fall like a star and i will lay where you lie

tracing fingertips over open palm

gently brush against the surface of waters calm

you will live forever like the seraphim

not out of grace, but for when you tore into my limb

my body went cold, and her, i still mourn

you, my visitor, look at this tangle of thorns

Reviews

[emmajoygreen]

Raw words cutting through what is fine poetry but - harbouring dissent and more: near hatred. Written with a crimson pen, jaye river?

[jacob erin-cilberto]

there is vengeance thought of here...living forever not out of grace--
I would not want to be the subject of this poem...

very powerful work here.
j.