Amongst stretched palms, you slip me a dagger
unsheathed, blade touching skin and offer me a
pre-emptive condolence like the waters receding
before the tsunami ravages the coastline,
in a violent search of a new home –
do you remember when I likened your
collarbones to the horizon of the sea,
and I – the lampless lighthouse in search
of your light?
Now look,
I’m swimming in your sun-kissed sea,
your lambent light keeps the night sky
lit past the late evening hours and into
the dark of night, thickening into an
umbra, and I trade bits of flesh,
of poetry/of song/of mirth,
of me –
for that light.
You wanted blood?
I’ll provide.
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A poem from a small compilation I wrote called 'Letters from the Blood Groove', if you want to read it, you can do so here: https://www.scribd.com/document/519612197/LETTERS-FROM-THE-BLOOD-GROOVE
