love poem at midnight

 
 
 
I tell you my heart, wrapped in bloody
papers, rots ripe with brutal stench of
rapacious cruelty.
I deny your lilting hail, call to healing beauty. 
Entranced, I wallow in respite,
the invisibility of sleep,
tightly coiled cold, alone.
 
Yet I fall open as you touch me.
Eyes melt shining into eyes,
lips into ecstasy.
Your fingertips feather down,
soft, alluring along my
long parched skin.
I want so to believe again
in two hearts beating wholeness.
.
.
.
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