Portrait

I’ve illustrated a bittersweet

portrait of my hopes.

I’ve made real

what has yet

to manifest.

Synopses of an affair

crystallize

to portend

an ascetic relationship.

One that burgeons through my senses

like cacti

betrothed to a lobelia

blooming

throughout my fallow mind.

I somberly

erupt

in the beauty of my thought

to disrupt

these dismal

feelings of hollowness

flowing

in and out of my lonely

bones.

 

Haunting me.

 

My arms barren of the softness.

My eyes in discord

with what I see beyond them.

My skin is left to weather

the days

without

its fair skinned companion

pressed to me.

 

Those lips that have yet to introduce themselves

bear a taste.

A stroke of my mind

creates the portrait of what I’ve been

dreaming about

these past nights.

Painted beneath my eyelids,

my lap is seated

with the seat of an Oregonian bird.

Those

beaten and

tattered

wings

painted

with the love in her eyes.

 

Perched against me,

I am

inside of her,

lost again

in my

dream to become a reality so

awe

embracing that

it would feel like

nothing

shy of an illusion.

Reviews

["L" alone]

"My arms barren of the softness.
My eyes in discord
with what I see beyond them.
My skin is left to weather
the days
without
its fair skinned companion
pressed to me. "

Mr. Moon you paint a lovely picture of want and yearning, Bourgeoning love. Bravo!

[SheralVeronEve]

bravo...simply divine...

[ST]

you haunt me with your words my dearest...

[Sparrow]

God, the more I read this the more I love it. I'd adore to be able to sit inside your head and see your imagination at work. Fallow? Seems a tad innapropriate considering what you do. Damn do I love what you do with your mind. I fell in love with it before anything else.