wild (Remove filter)
Beautiful and Cursed
It was no longer the body I saw
It was the emptiness of its lines
the silence that stretched like an endless night
a night in which beauty is lost
what is cursed
as if beauty were a lie
and the curse, perhaps, a form of love
I saw their gaze, the beautiful and the cursed
not with my eyes, but with absence
Because who feels sees through what’s unsaid
through what dissolves in the words ...
Saturday 18th January 2025 4:30 am

Recent Comments
Landi Cruz on Damnatio Memoriae
36 minutes ago
Shifa Maqba on It Wasn't Me
11 hours ago
John Gilbert Ellis on Perfection of Darkness
14 hours ago
LEON STOLGARD on Cancer
15 hours ago
David RL Moore on Alive through anger
15 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Christmas Nonet
18 hours ago
New Shoes on The Climb They Claim
22 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Christmas Girl
1 day ago
Ghazala lari on Bottle palm
1 day ago
John Coopey on OLD PEOPLE'S CHRISTMAS DANCE (A CARTOON IN POETRY)
1 day ago