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Sashka Salvatore

(Serbia / Serbia)

Foretold


If the night is that which your chest's foretold
Then let me surrender to it with all that I behold.
My undoubted saviour, t'is you that I seek
And in swarthy waves I found you - holding one so weak.
How do I speak when my tongue is stiff?
How do I touch when my body's limp?
Let us drown in silence, for words - they do not speak;
Silence withholds no screams, no shrieks...
Save love; Weary arms and this - your heartbeat.

Submitted: Monday, May 27, 2013
Edited: Thursday, September 05, 2013
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Poet's Notes about The Poem

I tend to write a plethora of poems for the one that does not yet exist as a body, but his soul is present in imagination.

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