There is no escape from the truth
of how you banish all fear in most of living.
The fear, it calls to ward off fortune,
its rich skin swims silver along the moon,
a stretch of greedy hands.
Night is that way, a confusing symphony of grief
and desire, rising mournfully, lit
like a blood drum in Autumn;
Cruel tempo of the heart, a seed,
an escalation to the demise of a self love,
and the entry into a someone-else love.
This I fear, this unrepentant snare,
to release myself, to be known
by only how I wish to be known by you.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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I love the title. This is very beautiful - a feeling of hesitation in giving & losing one's self with a lover...
I really, really like this...one of your best that I've read...
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