My desire,
running the length
of corridors, unwitnessed,
untouched, smoldering
in resident ancient bake–
Here there be tigers,
clawing at the sun’s
scorching midriff,
gutting the fame
from light,
until there is
no longer
any difference
between molten blood
and golden dust,
here there be angels,
purpling
and interlocked
in God’s double image
of cherish,
engendered by words
running wildly off.
This is not just liked but loved, yet there’s no love button, it’s among my all time favorites.
LikeLike
There IS a love button, there MUST be 🙂 Thank you, Dude Fred.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well. Not on WordPress.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Duly noted.
LikeLike
Just wondering: have you ever read the collected letters between Anais Nin and Henry Miller? They range from intensely philsophical to intensely sexual, and many moods between. Read em years ago, but just popped into my mind.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes! I have one of my most favorite things ever ever. It’s what made me love him too!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve read it lots 😶😳 lol
LikeLiked by 1 person