by Nadine Toppozada

Created on: March 15, 2009

The drifting residence of lust

Lost in the labyrinth of self and self again

dishelved by a handful of broken years

I arrive at the doorstep of exhilaration

Armed with weariness and despair

I check my soul in at the door

and clothe in ravenous desire

I feast in the frenzy of scented flesh

tearing open the scars of malaise

I thrust into tumultuous solitude

and feel the outpour of insatiable yearning

drown the corners of my mouth

Then the clock chimes

The time for inward turning has arrived

Quietly I slip my soul into my pocket

"Not now", I mutter "I just want to go home"

And as the door closes

In the silence of the trenches of solitude

I bleed.

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