Man/Woman


bathed in tears for Him
clothed in bruises of Her
gripped at the scapula
hating, wishing, hurting

but in facing apocalypse
complete damnation
whose hands would you clasp
whose fingers could hold you steady
in absolution
when the song sings
for the last time
when the last dance
is reaching its demise

an imperfection laced with another
imperfection

complete.

who would look
at those battle wounds
and whisper to them

who would caress
at those exposed flesh
and exclaim
beauty

who would love
you
as much as
you hurt me?

we fought a war, love
i want to see
the end of the world
within your clasp.


Written in 2009.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s