November 2, 2011

driving the root of me

don't untie me

you do know
   the latent power behind
      these old blue eyes
            it does not surprise me
                 that what you see
            blinds most
         with just a taste
   that pours 
from your lips
above as
you pounce down
      before the water
           fits the glove
                of any moment
                        the sharp
                           of you
                              with the
                                 blood of me
                                  the blood of what
                                     sees past
                                     any ghost or tree
                                       that time forgot 
                                  to say we only whisper
                          when we scream
                 our names,
         digging our nails
into each other


  1. Really like how this poem is presented and the words within it are perfectly chosen.

    Great work.

  2. aaah sweet...the presentation came about by magic accident...usually the best kind...thank you so much for commenting...Edward