To Write On Her Arms I
A predicament, in grills
Pirouetting in a prancing vinyl
Groping inside a rupture
Fractured cranium
Why do nebulas perish me?
Swords and dagger shall clatter
By the blind corner
Of your eyelids
Where were the compasses
That drove me here?
A song for the dinghy
Chaffing the periphery
Azure fluid lands of blades
Abort the sequence, or not
Why am I here and not here at all?
Faithful words shivering
Veils and nail polishes
Bloating masquerades and lemon tears
A ballad by the costal reef
What ocean can I reel in if I try?
Prometheus's flame
In the meantime, in between time
Conceiting in your satin
Poisons, potions, abrasions
Why is it hard to write about love?
Fancy motes
Fundamental gestures
We are robots, dead and alive
There's a bright light
Who are you, Seraphim?
Empty goblets
Brimming of emptiness
Dark summer skies
Somersault, intertwine
When will the manacles rust truly?
Lycanthropy, wail!
A skeleton in the closet, bantering
Elementally rupturing
In cellars, withdrawn in subtlety
Why are you too close to my chambers?
Colossal illusion
An escape goat left to bled
Bring down the portcullis!
There's a city buoyed in your lips
How are you, blooming like a Venus Trap?
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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