Words of a blind poet

speaking of a beauty unseen
the ruby lips florescent,

a flower,
sprouting

from a withering stem
the fragrance
that seizes
the midnight breeze—

the lily of the valley,
her delicate petals
like crystals
of the stars—

her moonlight smile,
a treasure
in the secret chamber of the mind
and upon a silent winter night,

she dances,
her hair like a feather,
to the tempo

of her lover’s frozen breath

 

 

feather-and-reflection-in-black-and-white-zoe-ferrie

 

 

 

 

 

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Phantoms

The demon in me
Check the shell and spill it’s secrets
Like and egg on a bare rock,
Before the sun for the world to see

The mind is an inferno
Ballads of the dead echo
Within the classics of the ancient
The winding chains around my heart

Pour me some blood
Quench this lust
And sooth my lust
The loins of a young maiden I long

To feel the warmth of her skin
With the sweat running on my back
Her veins pumped on her neck
And my fangs flashing in the moonlight

The death of flower
Withering with each kiss
Lies another body on my chest
The phantoms in my dreams

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