Saturday, February 10, 2007

City of Forgiven Whores

In this city
where birds fly upside
down, and sadness is a welt
made by a raindrop,
he comes to me.
He sings of sleeptalking dreamers,
whores baptized in rivers,
lost wastelands re-opened, then
kisses me, mouth soft and wide,
like he did when still young.

I tug him inside
and we soar till our wings melt--
two candles, burnt to the nub
of a universe rebuilding through
one eye not blinking,
through uncaring gods
converted to new ways of seeing,
at last.

10 comments:

mouse said...

Nice, lust and love in one fell swoop!

Pris said...

And changing the universe, to boot!

gautami tripathy said...

Powerful title.

Passion, love, lust...

Pris said...

Glad you liked this. Yes, I thought for a good while about the title to this.

Pat Paulk said...

Sizzling hot!!! Love it!!

Pris said...

Thanks, Pat!

Russell Ragsdale said...

We've been to bed but the view is not only bedroom. Thanks for sharing that Pris.

Pris said...

Hi Russell
thanks for stopping by and the comment. I appreciate!

Michael Parker said...

I saw this on your poetinspire.com site and commented via email. Now that it is here on your blogger site, I just want to add the same sentiments: I LOVE THIS!!!!

Pris said...

Thanks, Michael!!!