i fall feet-first
into new loves
that i hardly
deserve:
keeping a
steady gaze
trained on
the wraith
smiling
from the
soul of
their
eyes.
subtle
curve of
the lips:
mid-air,
i tremble
and turn
to meet them
face-first.
YOU ARE READING
mortals
Poetryi will shed myself of humanity and hold it within my aching chest, as if it will stop the burning. [ © jude rigor two-thousand-&-thirteen ]
