Sunday, July 17, 2011


& yet.. at times I still feel helpless
childlike in rags & ruins
forgotten in the daze of existence

...he was born of silvered reveries
featherless wings of fallen angels
hellbent on living for love
...or dying

& he knows me as love
a dizzy chaotic of earth & heavens
rapture & life

he is the moth & I am fire
he is breath.less
I am.. less
less than a woman who wakes knowing this.. mortal shell is merely a soul's vessel
who knows that love saves..
& kills

that death.. is rebirth..
...sweet insanity

No comments:

Post a Comment