Tertullian

Derivative reds,

But no salt scent.

And no end to the sand-fly's bite.

It is the end for this paralian.

Clandestine is such a pretty word

For something surreptitious

And reminds one of why

She must steal away

Just to experience.

When she is fully present,

She wants to be with the world

And concurrently alone.

When she realizes the paradox,

She wants to go to her room

Because she finds the sky boring

And the water redundant.

But it matters not, for

There is no end to the sand-fly's bite

Even wrapped up in sheets

With the A/C on 20° C.

Author's Note

"He who flees will fight again."

Reviews

[Tam Warink]

There is a recurrent theme running just beneath the surface of some of your poetry; it is best described perhaps by the word "smitten." It seems like the "things of life" are smiting you; for what reason is anyone's guess. However, you have found a voice to express the condition and that's a good thing. We all need the perspective of others. Thank you for sharing your poetic perceptions.

[Jason Henry]

and thank you for your perspective, Tam

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this is so deep....wonderful piece...that secret place within ourselves...we go to..and sometimes it gets soooo cold.

jacob

[Jason Henry]

when i was linking this back to my own life i found it to be deeper than i initially thought!

[Emily B]

i need a secret place, one where i can be quiet with my own thoughts, where i can feel what my heart needs to feel

loved these words

[Jason Henry]

glad u liked it :)