Caricamento in corso...

A touch

As these so-ever slow dropping water scale my back
A touch that seems unwanted, unmerited
Feeding on my skin, eating essence
Unfamiliar I stare at cold stony dribbling
Coursing from mean faucets
I am numb in my bones
Shuttering clambering noise
That pours out all ravens
Sleeping abed with demonized walls
That drink my soul in a holy fire
I priest my cheek across icy tiles
Hoping for a momentary awakening
To slip beneath aerial climes
But all my images force a sinking
Of iron that clouds my so sensitive heart
Standing stark naked in heaven-hunted bath stales
I god-flew in tombs that drew the spider on
Burning my teeth on winds of finer sunlight
Disappearing in misty bath graves
That dreamed my inefficiency
To safety in whore’s garter
I swam and kept on for miles away
But I slender my narrow stride
In a world of somber nights 
And calculated moves
Is it a wonder I cringe?
At this so otherworldly view of touch
It’s foreign, unmasked, breaking shadows
I live in breaking light
Draping amongst furies incantations
Monking my darkness in a shrouded hope
My waters have always hurt so much
They consume me
Drinking the light that streams
Out of my stilted breastplate
Raping the brain of reason
Into a wormed hunter-gatherer
I try oh I try to dispel him
But my waters are graves
Calling ghosts and beasts
To crawl and feed on flesh
That I so willingly give-up
Christ-like; all in blood and fire
Until piercing sunlight is I drone on
Vampiring my dead steps
Imprisoned in rooms of shifting waves
And drowning winds
Born in a corpse fever
While sweet cruel witching hours commence
Hunted each water-bred caress
Feels like the last
Each melting my heart
All sweeping memories sweet
But the damned remain in Gabriel’s dimple
Apprehension on wolfing these dread joys
Is the medicine in the influence
To cloak oneself in a shipwrecked fancy
As voices guides stars 
Yet I hear those waters pour over me
And I am engulfed in a wicked witch’s hallow 
Swallowed in night’s grasp
Coddled by evil hands all furious
Swept to the grave by waters 
And that cold ever so cold touch

Altre opere di Jeremy Andrew Barthelemy...



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