hide-and-seek

Race me around the raspberries,
until we twirl like the Damned,

like hurricane nostalgia,
and herds of pockets, slammed,

’til we buckle under senses,
and we overthrow the Fates,

like antiquated liquor,
or plush, sword-enflamed gates.

Let us run to sanguine grottos,
where they worshipped on all fours,

I will enshrine you in gold;
idolize me on doors.

Forget your vague, lacy lovers,
forget your cavernous halls,

come meet with me in sultry
caves; in violent withdrawals,

I am verse and agitation,
you are shepherd most profound;

We could be the ones to stop
the world from turning ’round.

19 Comments

  1. The first 2 lines are about the best I’ve ever read. I agree with Humans Are Weird – your poetry humbles us. Even when you follow forms, it’s incredibly organic – nothing constructed about it.

  2. Pfft, your poetry sucks. (JUST KIDDING. It always make me feel inferior and I die a little on the inside whenever I read them, which is secretly making me resent you a little bit. Cause yes, I am that much of a narcissist, and cause yes, your writing is that fucking good *shakes fist*).

  3. There is a sublime quality to your poems that make every “you” a personal appeal, free of the tired cliches of love-poetry. You converse.
    You are wonderful.

Love you, too

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