Malrose Horst

my medicine man is a beautiful woman
dances around troubled waters of mine
bird of  every paradise hopelesly lost in its rite
in feathers of all magic words
crafted vibrations of air
dressed like a poem to impress all that is left of me:
the surface
but really
unable to affect my pain to any depths
recover
more than I wish to expose
or cure

last night was an enchanting lesson
in sudden ends to blasphemy of silence
sin I rely on
to calm my waves
become transparent
not wake again
on August 29th
2016
A.D.

0 replies

Leave a Reply

Want to join the discussion?
Feel free to contribute!

Leave a Reply