poetry

Dead & lost

your fingers sweep saline dust
on my collarbones of dirt & dead hopes,
with figaments of knots, sordid closure.
ancient bells marking my face as salinity,
A staircase is kneaded inside my soft nerves,
my soft calves, my soft body..
the memory stinks & stuck
of you, of your black socks i slept in
your scent like vanilla sky,
enamored & ventilated, once

it’s a morbid tale of two now
Ships of lost city
with concrete desoltution
rubbing the corners of my thigh,
my plump breast, my void eyes.
it’s a tale people talk about now.
it’s a rotten sky now.

©MVS


31 thoughts on “Dead & lost

  1. I adore all of these images. I’m particularly keen on your ‘soft nerves’, ‘soft calves’, ‘soft body’. Repetition can get mundane, but yours was so unexpected and tender that I’m in awe. x

    Liked by 2 people

  2. How it all turns to just a tale, love it! ❤ Although there's this part I didn't understand much. What's it with the saline dust and the face being marked with salinity? I didn't get the reference actually!

    Liked by 1 person

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