The rolling of the curtains,
Shimmering silvery black,
In an instant woke me up,
Stretched the curves in one, two, three.

A backbone bent unbroken,
A detour along the way,
A chosen path of loving,
Walking slowly in four, five, six.

Then the curtains rolled again,
My last piece of hope awaits,
Body laid and tied on the bed,
Pushed and pulled in seven, eight, nine.

Patiently watchi...

Read and leave comments (0)

A paradox
Of expressions
And concealment.

An escaping
From the deepest
Hole of the self.

An adventure
To the quest for
Liberation.

A hiding place
Through metaphors
And similes.

Like a dungeon
Waiting the key
To be unlocked.

 

Read and leave comments (2)