/lit/ - Literature

Haunted still
your spirit binds me
to masculine purpose
to a dream of what's to come.
I writhe my hand in sand on pointed beaches
wishing you were leaves of grass,
scratching my palms with natural tendrils,
embracing my skin in earthen desires.
But now is not the time for Whitmans.

Eros lashes out against the darkness of Necessity.
He awakens in fury when she makes the cosmos cold.
He brushes up against her in spite of the bitch,
to unfurl her brows
and soothe the cunt out of her.
He teases her forcefully
because love is an animal,
a savage beast pursuing the beautiful.

You allure me in beads of sweat,
you smile knowingly yet look away in shame,
to forget me so I must remember you.

You cursed me to be alone
so that I might become your counterpart
long after you're gone
someday
somehow
I'll be what I must
that no one else can
since no one else has opened their heart to Walt's wonderland
A modern erotic tragedy
Accursed beloved
Betrothed and forgotten
Wanting and wanton

The look that tamed the clouds and let the sun shine again
Forever gentle on my mind and
writhing in my heart

Bless you Herakles, idol of mine
Each day I question if I want
to kiss you or
be you
or just see you
yet all of the above
give me reason
to live to fight