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Open Poetry #39
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My Nighttime
| Open Poetry #39 |
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My Nighttime |
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themute Member
since 2006-05-08
Posts 469Maryland 
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As the lights shone in my home, There was a queen of the nighttime dancing In my halls and in my kitchen. She made solid shadows, pure as the darkness, Stretched beneath her limbs, with a silver lining. And there were sparkles hovering and fluttering above her As if she were made of solid gold or diamond. I had never seen something more expansive, Coaxing me in, lulling me into a dancing of orectic Movements that tangled my heart and Brought out an urge in me to whisper to her like a child; Lips to ears, silent voice, on the edge of my hopes, In the realm of my daydreams. As her dances ended, her body fell To the kitchen floor, Laying on the tiles; Hair spread, legs together, arms dead, eyes, libidinous yet pure. Still she was calling: Yes Patrick, Your love for me will leave despair. “But Queen of nighttime, I prize your affections More so than the fish prize the ocean, Or the hawk would the air, A serpent to the sun, And the owl is to the nighttime.” Still, upon the seventh hour, she left my home, She walked in power, leaving me cold, My mind out of tune. Her intentions, I know, where better than mine. But she may not believe me; my focus was true, Unbounded by sensuous vices; I wanted her words, her comforting smile, The looks that she gave me, in limited times. But torture’s only torture, when you know: You’ll never feel comfort, and you’ll never be free. I am the two-toed wanderer |
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| © Copyright 2006 Matthew Patrick Holbert - All Rights Reserved | |||
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TinaTrivett Senior Member
since 2006-07-15
Posts 569 |
I missed reading your stuff  |
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passing shadows Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577displaced |
oh what a look can do *sigh* |
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