Paralyzed

Your tissue and bone, like hammer and stone.
Lay me down with this poison.
Counting heart beats, the frenzied heat of your touch.
Leads to my defensive corrosion.
Strychnine, and baths of turpentine.
Which strip away all doubts,
In a sweet sublime watery grave.
Your kiss. The dangerous list of a vessel.
Aching to be near you. Pumping to please you.
And sinking with your tide.

04/05/202227/03/2022 by Mark Ryan Categories: kiss, love, oceanTags: death, flowers, grave, heart, heartbeat, kiss, kissing, love, lust, ocean, poem, Poetry, poison, pump, sea, ship, tide, touch 2 Comments