http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/ |
We die,
Welcoming Bluebeards to our darkening closets,
Stranglers to our outstretched necks,
Stranglers, who neither care nor care to know that DEATH IS INTERNAL.
We pray, Savoring sweet the teethed lies, Bellying the grounds before alien gods, Gods, who neither know norwish to know that HELL IS INTERNAL.
We love, Rubbing the nakednesses with gloved hands, Inverting our mouths in tongued kisses, Kisses that neither touch no rcare to touch if LOVE IS INTERNAL.
No comments:
Post a Comment