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In Love with a Prostitute
Intruder am I, in your dreams
I want to inhale the scent of your pain
feed on your scars till rainbow ascends
I am thirsty, come feed the rain.
Where tattered memories, cut by the blade
contaminate, the blood from your vein
I'll purify them, with my cleansing tears
be not afraid, come feed the rain.
In your flawed garden, wild cactuses grow
I'll pluck them out, till none remain
cup my bloodied hands up high
till your thorny past, are washed in the rain.
Burn your lust, in the sacred fire
your venomous body, reeks of cocaine
upon whom once, hungry wolves feasted
I'll take your hand, and dance in the rain.
shunned by society, stabbed by abhorrent knife
the small cradle empty, again and again
but this time, love will take phoenix wings
come love, come feed on the rain.
In the promised land, where herons sing
let us walk to, untainted and sane
that true love, is the incessant stream
this simple truth, is written in the rain.
Style / type:
Structured: Eastern
Last few words:
A fictional dialogue between Mary Magdalene and Jesus..
Editing stage:
Content level:
Not Explicit Content
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Comments
lovedly
Wed, 2020-12-02 15:52
a rare poem
needs a second read
in your part of the country
prostitution breeds
a poet of your side told me
if each one adopted a prostitute
what would so many others do
just think
there are so many
who can't afford one for years many
poverty yes
but LOVE sex is all's need
you have taken a bold lead
be at it
but think of others
at the least
a night's rest at peace
maybe a few hours only
leaning against a
soft cushioning breast
Irenicus
Wed, 2020-12-02 16:50
Applause
That's the sweetest comment and thoughtful comment, I've ever heard.
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