Caricamento in corso...

No Angel

To all men who envision Love, and their beloved, in the form of an angel, innocent, pure, tranquil.

Don’t call me your angel
I’m no shimmering white apparition.
I am a silver haired she-devil
Pulling you into maelstrom
Of feelings, sensations
That were to you alien.
I do not offer peace and tranquility,
But wind, rain and sunshine.
Cleanse yourself in me.
 
I will force the eyes of your soul
Wide open,
Search deep and hard,
Shred your armor to pieces,
Crack your chest unshut,
Carve your heart out to keep next to mine.
Steal life’s breath from your lips
With a kiss so tormentingly sweet,
It will make you sprout wings,
And leap off a cliff
Beaten by tides.
 
Down, down,
Like a bird’s first attempt at flight.
Break the surface,
Pierce the depths of my ocean.
You will drown willingly, joyously in me.
Your body, spent and torn,
Waves will push out to rocky shores.
Your eyes, brilliant blue,
absent from this world,
Lost in ecstasy,
Will reflect nothing,
Save my image, my face.
 
My touch is innocent,
But I am not gentle.
I am a child of Nature.
If you want all of me,
I will consume all of you.
I am Love incarnate on the prowl.
I am your heart’s crimson desire,
I’ve come to claim what’s mine.
Don’t call me an angel.
 
©Olga Gavrilovskiy 2015

Love, angel desire,

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