Poem – “Born to Bloom” – Romanticism – 3/2/2021

Born apart,
Given the start
On the longest journey
Towards endless arms.
And to breasts
Being white with the milk,
To the slightest gray
On the stilled cheeks of a raven,
Where feathers bare oldness,
Of white in the warmth,
Onto black within coldness.

Still the grain
At the bottom of us.
A caress will not
Soften the screams of laughter.
Keep us falling
And leaking rain
From eyes made to wander,
To the hearts
Of another.

Keep these oceans dripping
The pearls, from shells
Where shyness welcomes the nudity
Of a moment, at birth
Of sickness, within love,
Where disease becomes the cure
Of all we desire
Of our hearts,
To make ill.

Lust rains with the fine
Wine of distant dust,
As red pours into eyes
Of crimson, dry with the irritation
Of limitation.

Blood deepens the veins
Only ever more,
As words come close
Only ever greater
In worth, than the warmth.

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