Beautiful Blurs
Beautifully tainted
trance of transition
back and forth
of my identical identities.
A lover’s lack
of sexuality,
instinct stolen by time.
Dying poets possess
no potential to progress
into former flames
or fireflies.
Trusted trysts
never to actualize,
only in suspicion
til I apologize
and crucify dreams.
I cannot dress
my sin in confession
and the question
of who deserves
my reborn innocence.
Blurred by words
of not knowing
what we feel
or who to be.
2007-01-09
02:12:52
·
2 answers
·
asked by
rhiannon_kc
1
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Books & Authors