Desire

Desire short poem

Photo by dalbera

I urge you,
pry the quiet crimson open
under the dying embers of the
blood orange sky.

Ragged words expelled
in a breathless arrhythmic pause,
coating the ridges of our raw
and urgent tongues.

We must intertwine,
lip upon lip,
soul upon soul,
to know the truth behind these opal eyes.

Search for me here,
blindly and recklessly,
burn your edges on the fiery passion
growing like wildfire
in our restless maws.

My lips shall not object
to your blue and thirsty flame,
trapping infinite moments in time.

We must intertwine,
we must intertwine.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of
avatar
wpDiscuz

Upon Her Desire

Upon Her Desire short poem

Upon my visiting a steep rocky hill, I saw her- strange, candid and very simple; Falling apart from the lip-stick beauty; From insane odors; from the tog’s divinity – A natural doll, she’s a spirited jill. The rustic cast was

Age And Desire

Age And Desire short poem

Our age is a deciduous tree, sheds yellow desires every year makes room for new ones in the spring of opportunity. Some desires resemble oak leaves, cramped and brown- still cling in mothers’ bosoms like our plans, albums, possessions. Alas,

My Heart’s Desire

My Hearts Desire short poem

Your love has my heart hopping like a kangaroo. Lost in love what’s a girl to do? Not much to offer but the broken pieces of my heart, perhaps it’s enough to make a new start. A fire can be

My Heart’s Desire

My Hearts Desire short poem

Your love has my heart hopping like a kangaroo. Lost in love what’s a girl to do? Not much to offer but the broken pieces of my heart, perhaps it’s enough to make a new start. A fire can be

Mute Desire

Mute Desire short poem

Come Naga, come: from the scented tree and spread out your hood. I will pull you down on my lips One day. Classical porn, Neanderthal. In your stark nakedness I wanted an asylum. A place guiltless, hands blackened, moony face,