The night blooms into orgasmic pleasure
As my tears for you wax and wane.
The soft ground under my feet,
The smell of air on my skin.
I breathe you in and I exhale.
Night bloodied is the sky,
Stained with thoughts of you.
Chaotic in one accord.
I do not remember, but I never forget.
My reflection staring back at me,
And how it shimmers.
I touch the liquid shine as it envelops my fingertips.
Oh, how I lick them dry.
Standing endlessly, holding the child of yesterday.
And I think to myself, ‘it is all mine.’
Take the blade and cut it deep.
Shed the blood of deceit, let it flow.
I shall feast on your reflection,
And I will lick myself dry.
Cold as the night,
Oh how it wax and wanes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem