Traces of butterfly wings
and silver spider threads
circle chambers of sleeping hurricanes,
dancing blades and electric kisses
all around an empty eye.
Dust strewn light whisper days,
waiting for the call, sacred resonance
to awaken beasts, free to roam.
Captured words and affection
bleed in saccharine torture.
Caloused whisps yearn to strew
gentle touches and caress.
Hurricane, the stranger, drunk from both cups,
sleeps, embracing both day and night,
piecing back its haggard breath
to search pleasure upon pain
and pain within pleasure
A contest entry
- Wild Butterflies, Caged Dragons....A Coming-out for Blue Kin by Blue Rew.
1299 points, ended February 15, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Wild Butterflies, Caged Dragons....A Coming-out for Blue Kin by Blue Rew.
1299 points, ended February 22, 5 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
Something about the use of dust here calls to
mind the sacred particles that birthed the world.
I liked the push and pull rhythm of this...
Hurricane being just that in essence and here personified; seems to seek its harbors like anyone else weary from the paths they've chosen.
Blue
PS-caress should have only one r -
-
Thank you commenting. It is a very old one that I keep cast off in a notebook until now. I am satisfied that you liked it. It was so fortunate to fit your contest after a wee editing. I noted the mistake.
-
Adding your comment:
