Saturday, September 7, 2013

fighter



I succumb to a raging hunger, clawing my way through rocky territories, inflamed by your skin. You are torn between your own fire and a rising tempest, scrupling what to risk and who to save. I avoid the questions in your eyes, the hesitancy in your coming, but I really can't leave without getting what I came for. You say that I wear a mask, layered with bloody regrets. I sigh defensively as my autumn skin lays exposed for you to seize. Why don't you find refuge here, I demand defiantly. In a solemnly hushed tone, you state, "Your heart is buried somewhere amidst all the loss, and I cannot find any road to travel." But your whispers, my love, are louder than your desolation. Perhaps in your passage from my tongue to navel, you'll find your way. I promise the wild beating of the drums of my core will swallow all the storms. There's a pregnant pause, as your dark gaze overpowers me. "I'm not here to plunder the ruins, for it'll destroy us both." I turn away, frightened by the upheaval. A revolution was in order, but I didn't know where to go anymore. The seconds passed in anxiousness, consumed by the darkness. It wasn't until the sun rose in the distance that I realized you had never left me.
There was nowhere else to go.
Your patience was our stronghold.

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