Reborn

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
stirring from the ashes of once forgotten hearth
rising like molten heat breaking the surface
it flows still down the barren canals
where echoes of tears used to tread
melting away remnants of fears
bringing life to dead limbs
cheeks suffused with blood

brilliant are the eyes that open to the skies
a wisp of breath escapes from parted lips
waking from a nightmare embraced
the cold no longer bothers her
as melting icicles of loneliness
pool beneath her dainty feet
dissolving in the heat

reborn from the scattered debris of shattered love
the shackles of emptiness are now laid bare
hands and feet will no longer be dragged
down into the well of familiar despair
for the sun is rising with warmth
and the chilling night
no longer remains

-©eamarifosque 053014-

Fingertips

 

Freely falling in love with the idea of love,
that clings to the very lips of yours that I wish to kiss,
with selfless abandon just to share this wish.

That you fall in love with this soul that weeps,
for the softest touch that you can bestow
on satin skin like petals on flowers that grow.

Caressing with deep seated love coming from the
heart,
that knows how sensuous fingertips can be
when they move ever so slowly against a feverish
body.

Mapping territories with every dip and glide
of splayed fingers that explore unchartered lands,
until they find the treasure buried deep within,
and claim it for its own to be awaken by your
fingertips.

-eamarifosque 051313-

Poetry: Alive

Poetry: Alive. A short poem on how I feel about being alive.