seesawA Poem by wiccaceltica
The boy with the gentle soul caressing me with enlightened appreciation wants back in the fold (ed) grin opening to glistened lips Pry me apart you know how to please
where do you fit? Your snug little fit. A paradox of desire to open my floodgate or squeeze down til you pop
The seesaw of resolve
A reality skewed to uncertain degrees holograms of a ghost ship spinning in the vortex of our past Familar sea cretion yet so different in flavor from the taste in my mouth Motion sickness of involuntary churn each thrust leaving me divested and pared Your playground
The perplexity of accepting the uncomplicated offers little comfort to a heart imprisoned in a distant dismissal Even the best of friend and lover only quiets the steaming vapors of longing’s brew enough to grow old in the castle walls of compromised presence Found dead on separate moldy couches
The quest that has left those before as delicate fossils of passion risks Chiron’s grip for a glimpse of the Grail A fool’s journey seducing child to piper is doomed to fail with half a soul in another’s Court I ponder the demise by crow’s peck less painful than the decay of unhappiness
Do I let you inject my veins with your butter? Lost in spacious hollows his (the other) umbilical cord severed and pulsing like the amputee’s sensations of missing limb My forgotten love still pricking for response
You so gentle and forgiving dissolve in the resolve of the seesaw
© 2008 wiccacelticaReviews
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1 Review Added on June 3, 2008 AuthorwiccacelticaSmall Town, RIAbouti'm not a writer. my poems are a way of channeling my emotions out on paper. i don't even know if they should be called poems, you decide. I put the words down as they evolve in my head so i don't us.. more..Writing
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