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Sepulchral Body.

I forget how once
I recited your name.
Frayed blossom spent
seven thorns from seven wounds
of loving you.

Sepulchral body
rhythmic dancing
rupturing those vessels
 from the  pungent flesh of servitude
The garden – my garden
 now barren and prickly
a desert cactus
gouging the flesh
cold and bare rock faced.

I observe those migratory birds
soaring their temperate destination
as perpetual  residence – they do decline.
 Trapped by the hallucinations
of their freedom
 
Endless in its liberty.

 

hurtlovemigrationpoetry

Comments

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M.C. Newberry

Thu 22nd Jan 2015 20:00

I had some fun interpreting this as a lament for
physical love lost and the regret of how transient
love insists on being just that...transient.
Question:
Isn't "dessert" actually "desert" in this context?

<Deleted User> (6895)

Tue 20th Jan 2015 12:52

very deep! loved the last verse espesh!xx

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