Rapture

Cradled in warmth as I tiptoe past the voices of uncertainty

Walking precisely so as not to force the wounds to rip open

To keep the stitches in tact

So we can’t feel

Keep the stitches in place

So we can’t ooze out

 

Blood clots in our eyes

So our vision is clear

Clearer than when it was just you and me

Scraping the veins so that I can touch our reality

Reality so secure

Nothing else is visible

Nothing else rips at the freckles on your shoulders

Nothing tears apart our sanity like this moment

 

Tiptoeing around so that I can feel

So that I can taste

So that you can’t erase

This rapture

Reviews

[Brad Dehler]

Wow one can really feel the tension and pain in this poem. Thank you for sharing. Tip toeing. I wont look at it the same any longer. We are all walking wounded, you seem to embrace it here as a very human and intimate experience. Was this about someone in particular? "So we can't ooze out".... indeed

[KCthelastboyscout]

These are the words of a great need inside your soul. A pleasure to read something so sensual