John G Evans © 2017
I am fire fanning the flames of crucified flesh
unduly forsaken –
I am the hot, red, hallowed blood that burns through
guiltless veins –
I am the sacred night that burns for these
mystic curves –
Ignited by a smile, a word of comfort, or
a shape –
I am as I am, woven into the fabric and of a soul’s starry birthright, and
universal midnight –
These fiery dreams, with hot, melded, steely hearts, and
flowered echoes –
Into the darkness I am lured by the sweetness
of scent –
I am the poet who scribes these words of our nudity, and feel
the burn –
Why, a focus on each other’s soul through a
fleshly means?
In her voice lay life, or is it ruin as I burn like coals for a
flaming heart –
I burn, and I yearn to burn, for a simple taste of
love unearned –
I have given of my soul that thirsts for this erotic burn, flames that
never die –
For is it death I cry, or for a sacred moment
I lie –
In our cradle of
Vexing flesh?
In touching the Sun of mystical hearts and burning souls
brackish flesh –
Oh, this erotic burn!
NOTE:
This poem was rewritten and edited by John G Evans from his 2nd book entitled, I Am: The Tiny Mustard Seed, © 2017 by Createspace.com
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