there isย
a red-white
blazing thing
that pulses at my fingertips
and makes my spine ache
It has your face
your face with those eyes
and that wolf-mouth
There is the sound
of your face burning in my veins
and it is Death who must let it out
Death with his silver-sharp teeth
Death who might set me free
from this terrible coursing
thunder of your face in my blood
in the night
in the grey hollows of my bones.
~Melanie Blackwell
Filed under Poetry
Also on Amazon PRINT or E-BOOK http://www.amazon.com/Spectrum-Watercolored-Mrs-Melanie-Thomason/dp/1505755239
I write about Desire. Sex. Longing. Pain. Darkness. All of it.
We're all on a road to somewhere.
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a resource for moving poetry
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Great poets live on the edge of sanity; mediocre ones reside in the suburbs.
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Smidgens
I’ve had cigarettes that have that effect on me in the past.
I totally know this feeling! it was how I felt when I was younger and couldn’t shake my feelings for one particular guy. Fortunately, I met my husband and that cured me outright! ๐
This was written about a past relationship…how I felt. I’m actually engaged to a wonderful man now. Your right it does make a world of difference!
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