How She is Marked for Kissing
Poetry fills my heart,The white spot upon her head
Exists for kissing.
Words sing out and sing out through my soul.
I bow to press my lips; my heart rises.
I thought things were one way.
I awoke and they were another.
Come joyful awakening,
See, this spot has always existed
On bowed heads of beloved creatures.
Luscious words taste incredibly golden, agave,
Drip gentle beauty, vegan honey,
Everything I ever desired exists
Between my pressed lips.
My heart fills with poetry, and I awaken,
To sing out and sing out, never to be silenced.
A furred spot in the dark glows.
Her perfect design, her perfect nature, agape,
Small, quiet fury, filled with captured words.
See, devout-child, how she is marked.
Kiss her. Know her. Set her free.
d'awww.
ReplyDelete