wordings of the soul

On Nights Like This By Martins Deep

POSTED 09/21/2018 12:43
737 Reads On Nights Like This  By Martins Deep, Poetry on Tushstories
(For Miracle Otashu)

On nights like this
when mood music finds the map
to take me away from under this ceiling refusing to turn into the sky the
flint in your eyes rubbed against mine -
do I watch darkness hold a flaming torch over every part of you
I owe sonnets in the handwriting of the man you crowned king of your heart
A debt in files piled up to declare
my word bank bankrupt
for my muse was exiled for loots of expressions

I do not feel the soles of my feet
on one of the addresses named Memory Lane
where violins become horse back with treading hooves sounding as an ocean
whispering beckons to a little girl wishing to be a mermaid

I see you, feel you enthroned upon my laps I turn into a swing while we
shared cookies with silence
until it was time to part
for the wildernesses in our beds
we wander in nightly seeking to sever off the tail of time

Long night it is without your hand in mine
One less about sob stories as I'm consoled by your giggles.
I taste sunlight on the moonbeams to bloom as the Queen of the Night-
blooms called poetry
never spared with the bittersweet thing called love

On nights like this I wonder if you are a stray cherub that sold its wings
to an Irish dreamer
to be enthralled by the chords of a throbbing human heart at the touch of love

I rush over your place
for you're the mystery I must unveil at dawn
where the sun rises on the East of your breast to the West of your beaded waist

I stand before your door
to a hand-written note that turned on the faucet in my eyes,
"I flew this morning to return soonest, my love."

On nights like this
I sentence love to a wakeful death
by writing dirges that halts before a comma
I must crossover into the arms of
another or die in the winter before your return.

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