Love Must Be Spoken In A Thunderstorm - Poem by Niko Tiliopoulos
When death dies
from the Medusa’s arrows:
that tell the tales of the Devil
hidden in your heart.
to the wind-song of Persephone
on the pedals of the flowers;
it is the pain of the enchanted lovers.
It is a curse, they say, to stare at your reflection,
on a lake, in a cloudy night.
it is the fire of topaz
that for aeons now
has enslaved Circe.
the scent that’s approaching,
it’s of Bacchus,
Ha! Dionysus knows fun.
it could be her shoulder, her breasts,
it could be life,
And only then,
when the vibrations distort your senses,
watch the lightning flash in her eyes
Comments about Love Must Be Spoken In A Thunderstorm by Niko Tiliopoulos
Edgar Allan Poe
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