Cadaver of Verse

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Hyacinth garden

smile at the world through your pearly teeth.

as her sharpened eyes, take flight.

she's preoccupied with the practice of alchemy.

summer mornings are her walk in the park.

heated nights she is skinny dippin in the dark.

before she was open to friendly ideas, now her life is secretive.

it is not possible for me to make her happy.

I hear her mythic feminine voices.

as I suffer desire unrequited.

turn my turmoil into words.

spaces release my reverie.

I long to be opened, I crave to be found.

the poet's desire is a turn-a-round and upside down.

I am outside passion, and outside of her life.

I am within moments of surrender, if only she still existed.

to sympathize is to remember.

this poet shatters into language.

now nothing remains of his poetry.

poems are corpses that retire calamitous; they are the cadaver of verse.

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sanctus's picture

Excellent!!

Excellent!!