Poem – “My Hands Flood Forward” – Erotica

I bring myself close for a study,
To see you in your rawest misery.

For I am merely a phantom,
With hands as pure ice.

You lay in bed, with a mantra of guilt,
Stumbling upon remorse like your very soul.
You have memory peeking from between your breasts.
As you rape yourself, over again.

Come and play with the devil.
Though, I’ll watch you play with my hands,
Finding the pleasure to be truest
To your cunning heart.

I ended my life by a noose,
By a thread,
By a vein.
And I beat still too close to a frozen heart.

Your face, and your eyes,
Enough for myself to alight,
In the highest flame.
I’ll glow as a phantom, and glow as a savior.

Go ahead, and lay there, attempting to forget,
Forgoing the emotions we’ve both laid down,
Upon the furnace to our love,
Upon such putrid heat, tangled in veins.

Was I in love, or was I in hate?
I cannot tell which is hotter,
Nor can I tell the difference,
Between your long-streaming eyes,
And the hated goodbyes,
Nor even the lies told by friends, spoken in a white parlor.

I find thy face, of grief, to be amusing,
My misery is high, and it will soar, past your loneliness.

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