Robert Burgan

Veteran Poet - 1,275 Points (Chicago)

Passiflora - Poem by Robert Burgan

If I could die on your golden paradigm I'd ride the wave into the afterlife
With two hands grasping at the straws you supply
Body shaped liked a purple loosestrife
Reach the peak little Matterhorn, batter boards built around every relationship I can't afford
I know I'm going broke evoke emotions leave me comatose
You're everything I've ever wanted, leave me exposed
Exposé on your sexual phase
Burn myself alive where the tent poles lay
I'm a mental case study
My tongue will taste bloody
After I kiss archangels who say they "love me"
Meet a muse imbued by the hue, color scheme
A dream that won't come true
We ooze our secrets, use our pretext to get consumed by each other's uniqueness
I form waves
You stay sea sick
I'll be Aphrodite you be Venus
Sequence of events, the ascent of another delusion I use to pretend
It'll all be ok, everything will materialize
You have imperial eyes I want to slave drive
Baptized in the ether, beseech her
Quickly conclude "yeah, this one is a keeper"
So you be the reaper I'll be the scythe
You be death I'll give you my life
If that's not enough I'll let you hold onto my soul
Keep it safe, keep it under control
No more boundaries, surround me, drown me
I want to die in the same undertow where you found me

Topic(s) of this poem: broken heart, tragedy

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Edgar Allan Poe

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, June 28, 2017

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