The Wounded Feminine

Your darkeness never ceases to inspire poetry. Your fragile beauty, your raging despair, your determined isolation, you the wounded feminine, draw me into a realm of bloody ecstacy that no-one can fathom, it is a beauty so deep that it hurts to touch, a love so raw that that my heart turns into a naked scream!without you there is no poetry, without you my words turn to ash and I fall into a deathly silence.....Without you I must become the wound and from there the vehicle of poetry dissipates, all thats left of me is clay pulsing rhythmically like a cosmic heartbeat crying its love into the world..Ashes to Ashes.Dust to Dust.I drink in your blood.

 

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