Vorbind Fără Sunet

Is it merely ordered verse you desire of me or something more?

Since it seems to me that your cravings run deeper than ink.

In the way we move as I pierce you with those deep-set orbing planets,

The mere presence of words would be a bland accompaniment.

 

The enigma again ran true in that familiar dichotomy,

Excitement for you felt like the reaping of entrails for me.

For those restless feelings so highly uncertain,

Caused my mind to swirl in a sweeping gust of confusion.

 

Despite the share of omnipresent looks, I could not quite figure you out.

With the understanding that peeling back layers confirmed,

So too were they re-jacketed, fuelled by cool gusts of your cold and breath.

Who holds the power here, allowing it only to trickle out ever so sluggishly?

 

Is it possible to know someone and to feel their presence in your mind,

Whilst having nothing more than a name?

That cautious personality confirms the intrigue within me,

Whilst also increasingly exasperating my sense of logic.

 

The sorcerer had become misshaped,

It was her newfound desires that allowed him to take it.

Like the patient who survives merely on the promise of the following dose,

She waded uncertain waters for the peace of every injection.

 

That fiery uncontrollable soul was rarely awarded,

Do not dull its powers; the phoenix extinguished is none at all.

Smothering will do no good when you hold the capacity to enflame,

Even the darkest desires she holds.

 

When the crimson red liquid of gods entered,

And exacerbated their yearn, how ignited their souls could become.

Triggering irrationality and imprisoning them to their cravings,

Their release awarded under the streetlights of the park grounds lining the city.

 

On this earth there exists few men with such capacity,

To stagnate my rationality, inviting a dazed state of confusion.

It was in those places that I couldn’t hear or see,

And bare backed embraces ensued despite the scrutiny of a thousand eyes.

 

The cold ground below the curve of my spine,

Causing my head to tilt back under the expansive galaxies.

The earth coerced us to sip from it as its energy that was refocused and,

Cued the onset of the mystifying freedom only returning to the earth could bring.

 

That passion was no leather belt bruising my hands,

However it was clear and natural as it streamed between our forms.

I didn’t have to think up fantasies in my mind as

It was exhilarating that a simple touch could grant me the same.

 

Although he would never sing gentle lovers praises,

Nor take my jaw between his palms and trail the edge of my chin,

One look from his eyes and I would allow him to take my body

Captivate my mind and lead me to new terrain.

 

How the light of the moon could excite your features,

As it breathed energy into our bodies from it’s expansive home above us.

How was it possible that such a connection was formed by passion,

yet be still inextricably entwined with fear, loneliness and hurt.

 

This was however the most beautiful fact of all,

Our lost souls harmed by the same deed, had recognised one another.

Although those stories were different tide marks etched upon the cliff,

The dark thread transformed itself into the purest of ribbons.

 

The interwoven stories of times come and gone,

A beautiful naivety in a distant land from the one we now shared.

Innocence was bliss among the blossoming dudă,

Where tiny purpled fingers did not reflect bruised hearts.

 

It was the anguish that we both wore around out necks,

The kind unable to be handled by such tidal souls

That set our eyes upon one another, emancipating the strain.

But with unweighted bodies, lightness flourished.

 

Emotions ran as deep as the slices made at the hands of our once loved,

But together the stitching’s durability was amplified.

The seed found it’s way through the murky soil,

It did not realise its own beauty until it saw its reflection in its brother.

 

But amongst all this seemly beautiful interweaving,

Reality prompts that light cannot be known without darkness.

Just as we patched up our pain with the same gauze,

Our salvation and resurrection, will soon become our destruction.

 

In some ways I am happy to leave it all behind,

Occasionally the fear of suffocation sets and my mind hints at the shackles.

How would I continue to be picked up by the many winds of the earth,

If my feet were cemented by el reflejo de la luna en tus ojos.

 

All these words fused together and strung like heaped curtains,

Unwrap the flash of a thousand seconds.

We are painted boldly and folded out onto new sheets,

We quiet those many languages with a single glance… vorbind fără sunet

 

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