poetry

Dreams and talks

I could smell your wine, 
your amniotic sheets
of pure stars and silicon lullaby,
regenerating my outgrown toes and stale stairs.
this head wrap is a lie,
if your nights do not talk to mine.
You become my pool of waters and waters
that kills my dead skin, on repeats.

You wander, like a dream
soft and tiny
in my 4 A.M talks, the moment of collision
I see your swapping legs and arms
kisses and poetry
tears and scars,
A mulberry sheet of dreams.
I could smell you once again
in the words of pillow marks,
in the arch of my windowsill.
Knitting and defying this entire life,
you do it in a pattern.
You do it always.

©MVS

NaPoWriMo#14

39 thoughts on “Dreams and talks

  1. This is brilliantly done, especially here:

    “A mulberry sheet of dreams.
    I could smell you once again
    in the words of pillow marks,
    in the arch of my windowsill.
    Knitting and defying this entire life,
    you do it in a pattern.
    You do it always.”

    Perfection.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. my, i love the ambiance of this poem. brings to mind passionate nights on tropical islands, among vanilla scented sheets and jasmine air, with nothing but the stars above the oceans around. your writing is simply intoxicating!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Touches my heart, have you been spying on me?

    living water, i sour
    in bad erotic dreams…
    you don’t have to
    be so
    elegantly mean..
    bastard child i am
    gold plate an spoon..

    a quick blink, soft shy wink and kisses you’ve never dreamed of…

    Liked by 1 person

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