Antim Sanska (Final Rite) Poem by Scott Underwood
Antim Sanska (Final Rite)
Antim Sanska (Final Rite)
Take off the veil that shadows the moon of your face.
Don’t hold anything back.
It’s too late for that.
The scent from your delicate neck
Spirals like smoke from a funerary fire
Burning at the edge of this wracked sea.
The blooms of desire
In the flower of your kiss
Are cool and muscular
On this full moon at the edge of apocalypse.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/16/2024 6:10:18 AM # 1.0.0.1119
