Shortlands, Vi Poem by George Tartaros

Between the silence and the feast, between decay and immortality,
Born in the heart of the volcano, but raised in the Icy kingdom.
Made of your matter, but not of your thirst.
A creature of light and darkness, open and closed,
She’s not mourning every dawn by the bog.
She’s not armed, but she’s lethal,
If you love her, you might love yourself.
She could drive you to a safe harbour
And before you realize it, years will have passed;
Your face will change and your heart will be softer.
She will absorb you, while you will think that you’re still the same.
Quietly.
As time goes by, the tempest in your veins will subside.
A new day will rise at the end of the war. A new heart.
The bride loves and honors earth. Either you accept or reject her,
She will still dominate you. She is the sea and you are the thirst.
Her seaweeds will stop your pain, but will seed a volcano in your chest.


Shortlands, VI from the book 'Aornum''

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