Saturday, June 25, 2011

You Don't Know My Poetry


Written in blood yet sheds no red

As pen caresses my mighty seed

The shadows hurled the whispers of the dark

As pleasure slithers in the moon of light.

And then decoded in the movement of your lips

You realize all of a sudden this is no paragraph

But fragments of innumerable plights

Moistened with the desire

Of some men.

Now, indelible.

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