Standing in the waters of the sea.
Watching how you scissor raven hair.
Lusting for the major scarlet key.
Drowning in the bathos of despair.
My beloved, enigmatic star,
Let me make incisions in your chest.
Pulsing organ shows me who you are
Burning like the sunset in the west.
Sorting through the vessels in your shrine
I will reach the sacredness of love.
Amatory symbols want to dine
With a broken-winged defeated dove.
Quench the hunger of the ancient art,
Cherry juice on fabrics of my skirt.
I engrave my letters on your heart.
Does it hurt, beloved? Does it hurt?
My Beloved
© Copyright: Диана Погорелова, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122100406366
Свидетельство о публикации №122100406366
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