Thursday, March 22, 2018

Black Moon

What pain I planted on you
that you hammer my heart
with a force, and
knot my tongue
with deeper silence, within
The more I drip my eyes
Pining your beautiful art
A cold brush,
hinge me
Towards a blank canvas
How I creep
through your barbed wires
that you cut my roots by your sharp nails
and, intrude a war
on my softest part
What pain I gravitate on you
that I find
A black moon, ebbing
An ocean flows
through my cupped hands
On full moon night

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