a beauteous thing

penetrating holy men
penetrating diseases
 
inhabitants lonely persons
 
say one, a beauteous thing
wore a mask
 
forest blended
 
in the highest boughs, rain
rustled to reach
 
roots, through a dry, parched surface
dust choked with nervous hands
 
she silently looked 
patiently she 
 
waited
 
engulfing the air, yellow diesel dozer
exhaust
 
exhausting life
 
yellow cabs exhaust life in a city
 
trees in this green environment
soon to be growing
 
in gray cemeteries
 
bark becomes the headstone
 
with deforestation, moonlight 
walks in a slump shouldered
 
gloom
 
he appears from a promising
distance
 
eyes meet like sand in a
desert, slow, deliberate
 
she has the mysterious voice
he the sensual one
 
spread out on rainforest floor
she takes off her mask
 
feel the tiny, delicious pain
he fills her up
 
tender flesh 
 
persistent love
every glance
 
she, “i want to be the victim of your
passion”
 
scent of the absence of negativity
 
forest embodied with embers
burning
 
in a villa, coastline painted
rings adorn fingers
 
happily ever after…
 
 
Copyright © 05/06/2013 Ðark Ṝoasted Ƣoetry®
Image
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