a feather falls from the heavens
to a grassy knoll in the woods
where the sun beats down
on a poor little babe in the wild
upon this sparrow are the scars
of men laid to rest in their defeat
as the impossible might of love
sleeps them into a dying retreat
oh how perfect lay her hair
a sweet auburn fire
over in my head do i count them
yet beauty lay again and again
the hair had a beautiful home
on ivory skin lightly toasted on the fire
with little specks upon her cheeks
that led to a plush set of remembrance
under what was nothing short
of the deepest ocean i had ever seen her eyes like pale sapphires
burning past like her hair
so sweet babe so unswept
like a goddess of no measure
i wish to rest upon her chest
and lay with a love unkept
let me sink in her flesh
with a sweet, succulent vigor
her lips, her breasts
her thighs, her lungs
i want it all for i see through
a love so powerful it hurts
YOU ARE READING
if not human
Poetrythe anthology of emotion, the passing of life, the epilogue of pure, unfiltered regret this is "if not human" poems, prose and stories from the dark
