I walk softly,
aware of a searching gaze.
Cold prickles of salty,
sweat,
rain upon my skin.
It is,
Dark.
A smothering depth which,
consumes.
Smooth fingertips dance upon sweet,
Flesh.
Caressing,
exploring,
loving.
Fire,
shoots through desperate veins,
warming an unexplored core.
It is,
silence which reigns in this broken paradise,
a forgotten promise,
a broken oath.
Cruel lips,
once sweetened with honeyed words,
now drip disdain.
Eyes so dark they are lost within the realms of corrupted utopia,
spark with conceit.
Thin lips curve,
“Gotcha! ”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem