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She fights death
In clattered hearts
With washed, ruined walls,
Reeling from the stench of old blood.
She fights death
With screams, trembling moans
long Pricky tubes…
Pulling, extracting and laying.
She fights death,
With swab of wet clothes,
Wriggling feets, twitching eyes
And Scary lips
Opening and closing in dead hanging moans.
She fights death
The death in your eyes
The death in your voice
The death in your soul
That binds you and her together.
That’s sets you and her ablaze in this unending trap.
As you stare at eachother, breathing passionately, carelessly, weakly,
Before she whispers
You say the words
The words you both feel with every rhythm.
“We are prisoners of love”
You say, then watch her slip off your erect grip.
Her wet eyes closing in a mild swoon.
***
Dont close those eyes
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Nyc pis keep bleeding
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Muy bonita poesía, te felicito amiga @mimy, te estaré siguiendo para leer tu trabajo, un abrazo!
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We are prisoners of love
I like your write ups...guess u read English language? Nice 👏
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