A Chorus of Ecstasy

Five full years of unanswered questions,

the instability of thought,

the alter of insecurity becoming a reality,

waves of mood and evenings of tormented tears,

surely demise was imminent,

to function and grow,

the steams must be reaped-

and that they were,

hopes of an unbroken eternity,

shattered in the face of uncertainty,

the time would have always come,

the way out was easy now.

 

                   thousands of worlds apart-

we refused to fall in desperation,

to be whole was better than loved…

freedom had been craved,

others yet to be explored-

lacking physical satiation,

flowers begged for blossom,

touch that commanding weak knees,

unyielding resentment,

the symbiosis in stress,

the algae and the fungi,

the zooxanthellae and coral,

the sun-bleached end revealed,

the imminence of its deathbed,

our hypothesis was to be tested.

 

                              Despite the gain,

great oceans drifted with currents,

the sounds found their way back,

the rice burned on the kitchen stove,

his hands laced around my waist…

or were they yours?

                                     Or mine.

that unborn children had to be killed,

she, a mere fragment of reality,

her giggles tormented me,

once a beautiful amalgamation of two bodies,

blue eyes adorning as they suckled,

turn the Phoenix back to ash,

for otherwise I would surely madden,

those gardens and bare bottomed children,

stalked me through the park,

lettuce seedling rooted in their palms,

merely an idea of forgiveness,

the truth, unable to be granted,

the profundity in collision,

your shackles guided me home,

I longed to cuff your left hand,

and leave my golden circle imprinted,

to forever bathe in that night of ecstasy,

under the light of the full moon,

it trickled from a glass of red,

captivating my naval hours on end,

sipping from arousal over again,

melting and shivering in candlelight,

a nebula of energy exchange,

questioning the magnetism of gravity,

the elation of the voice to command of hips,

 

                                            I sat there,

synchronising with a chorus of frogs,

the forest floor was wet and cold,

the music of carnal transformation,

the manifestation of birth itself,

yet I remained merely a mortal being,

so my feet abandoned those weeping eyes,

and I left you sleeping there.

 

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