Pearls seep through your drenched hair
Soaking your forehead, and those dark sickles on top of your eyes
Slowly your eyes go moist, lips cold and dank
The vermilion cheeks stiff with a moist chill.
You were away for a long time
Back to me only for the night
Walking through the reckless rain for an hour and more
Put aside your clammy clothes
Sit by my fire, sit by me
Let me warm your feet with the guarded heat of my palms
Which I held carefully only for you
And your lips with mine.
I wish I could breathe inside out an eternal fire
I wish to know, in you lies an infinite thirst
That will always draw you back home.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
A soul search through...guts...smashed heads and rotten embryos
2 comments:
really I don't read Bong people writing English much.....so i wouldn't know....and how exactly do bongs write?????
Post a Comment