Corona

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I see you hanging from the roots of the mighty moon that join the oblivion distance between our naked space. This space is Point Blank. Your screams scratch your inner linings of delicate skin, producing an hour of a shooting star. A river of pervasive murmurs.

I walk along, to slurp the pain, the gain, the withering, the blooming onto my toe ring, soothing yet mystical. Burn the ash, lit the fire. Do you see the distance?

Flicker the holy waters onto your collarbone, smell its corona like fragrance.

Melt along with me into fragments of desire, lost yet found.

©my valiant soul

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my valiant soul

A dreamer and a believer for the upliftment of women rights. A published poet, author, writer. Believes in dancing and cooking amazing food for hungry souls at times. Loves to write and write till the moon is satisfied. My writings can be found at Visual Verse, Indian Periodical, Sick Lit mag, Duane's Poetree, Thistle magazine, among various others. Curator of Olive Skins.

30 thoughts on “Corona”

  8. The best and strongest phrase is “lost yet found”, which ends the piece with an explanation point as well as summarizes the poem. It is particularly effective because it is a contradiction…a paradox…yet a truth. Drawing from your previous work one can be faced with challenging situations, difficulties, chaos…but in working through these things if one can come to point of clarity in their direction… these obstacles disappear or at least become greatly reduced. Thus, “lost yet found.” The peak of the yearly Perseid Meteor Shower here in CA was last Friday night. We saw 12 shooting stars in 3 hours. With a strong sense of direction, which you seem to have… I suspect your shooting star party awaits you.
    Forrest

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      2. I clicked over to his site to read his poems. I think his mind is prone to a certain interpretation, which is very human. I’ve been trying to get an agent for a novel about four characters who see the world through different mindsets (Confucian, Christian, Foucault, and Judith Butler).

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