Stark Raving Love

Stark Raving Love

Stark Raving Love

There’s a haunting depth
to the quality of love
not all are equally seeking.

She craves the mere presence of him:

nose to nose
exchanging thoughts,

eyes tasting,

fingertip to fingertip
exchanging breath,

lips taking.

He’s seeped beneath her skin,
his inky thoughts
billowing northward.

Following his toxic exhale,
she’s traced the path—
truth resides in his eyes—

her fingers smudged
with the complexity
of art.

Depraved corners of his mind
speak to her. The needs of forgotten flesh
prick and come alive.

A rendezvous of wicked thoughts
born of immaculate means
virtue and sin, merely from a pen.

She bathes
in his infected ink
what remains unwritten.

Cradling his fractured heart
within the warmth of her chest, she
absolves his sins with tender flesh.

Words taste better
soul to skin.

Rain drips from her mouth’s lips.
Vowels spill from nature’s bough.
Morning comes, softly, predictably.

For she took a chance
dipped her heart in the ink of love.
Affected, perhaps a little crazy.

© Grace Black

A Poem written for The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Let’s Go Crazy


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