Love and Words

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Devastation

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Ita leaves me wanting,

lying boneless

pooled in a shadowed corner

while she stands beneath the street light.

My staring eyes, dry and burning.

My body drained of all its strength,

paralyzed by her nearness,

and the knowledge

of what it would take.


I love her, you see.

Though I don't believe

she knows my name.


O sweet devastation,

this choice we are all free to make.

Do we give up our all

to become something new?

Or acknowledge the weave of fate?


Ita sits beside me now,

her beard tangled and soiled.

Swollen feet thrust towards flames

she stirs with one hand,

a fire that is lit

by the laws of this land.

And the bottle passed between us,

is sanctified by its dust and sin.


And you,

Who loves me,

take me in once again,

when I come to your door

once the day has dawned.

 

You are frightened by this closeness.

This devotion,

that leaves me sitting on your

clean chairs

scraped and worn.

The bruises from Ita's kiss

blue on my cheek,

the odor of her sweat

clinging to my clothes.


'And why?'

'And why?'

You cry

as you pull me close.


O sweet devastation,

how could I ever make you understand?

That in some things lie choices,

and in some,

the discovery

of where we were born to begin.


Ita lies within me,

stirring now and again.

She lifts my arms

and holds them open

when I have drawn them closed.


She opens my lips

and blows breath in my mouth

when all is stale within.


She is the fire

and water

that coincide.

Burning and cooling,

making all of life

 


seem mine.



And you,

who loves me,

who cries in silence

in the night,


think now clearly,

would you still love me,

if not for this fire

that burns so bright?


O sweet devastation,

this choice we are all free to make.

Do we give up our all

to become something new?

Or acknowledge the weave of fate?


Because I am,

I know you are.


Because I am, 

I know you are.

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decagon          poetry

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