The Flood

May it wash me clean

All day the rain had fallen,

a grey shroud

woven between bare branches and

enveloping flowers.

Where have you gone? Do you

hear the incessant sound?

Are you too lying

under a mirrored sky?

My bones are heavy-

sinking into black mud,

I mourn myself under trees

drenched with indecent hope.

Who am I? Is my memory

imprinted on your skin?

Why do I insist on my own

importance?

The rain is unceasing, it  

clothes me in

salacious desire.

The sky is weeping light.

Reviews

[Inject Positivity]

The imagery and thoughts in your poem are wonderful my frnd. Selection of words is another aspect of this poem that stood out for me. Sometimes floods are important for life too, so that they can wash away and clean all our torn apart parts to help us begin a new...

Sincerely
Dhiman

[CourtniRenee]

Thank you very much, Dhiman! I really appreciate your kind words!

[Writer at last! Sky ~]

The depthness of your words is amazing. I hope it had washed you clean :)

[CourtniRenee]

Thank you!