Poem – “Entitled Heart” – Romance – 10/13/2020

Without display
Of yourself, in the wind,
There is only shame
Kept on your ridged back,
Pock-marked by age,
Despondent in your ways.
For I can love
Without much help to yourself,
As I can kiss
Without much closure to your wounds.

You will paint imagery
Over your eyes,
Recounting the fallen droplets
Coming from the stem
You’ve yearned to have.
Youth, with no mirror to splash disregard,
Love has left your womb,
As you gather leaves for a tomb.
Can I match your pages with history?

You down
To dance with the devil,
And his endless row of concubines.

You seem to find yourself
Among them,
So easily.
Like to children who will never taste your breast,
You clash to the heat,
Finding lust, to your quivering bust,
Leaking ivory
To the frozen red of this realm.

Entitled in your age
To swim among wisdom’s page,
Yet, you’ll dance without form,
Seeking a face that is torn.

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