place with the circular stone altar,
silver and gold,
and you;
somehow berries are always sweetest when found in the wild
and eaten on the move,
purple-black,
ruby-red,
pussy-pink.
like an empty bag in the wind
at night on an abandoned road,
searching through the wood for berries;
long kisses in a basement room as a guest,
walking away from moments that should never-end.
memories of stolen kisses,
fallen days,
and
fading flowers.
All pieces are newly crafted and posted shortly after in adherence to the rules of the challenge. All the photos are mine unless otherwise stated.
Entry for Day 20 of 100 Days of Poetry Challenge by @d-pend.
Join the Steemit School here: https://discord.gg/yZvYjfM organized by @dobartim on Discord.
In May Queen, we had, "and you are / luster-whites / tearing at me." In Resplendence, we had "Lay upon my breast, feed of my mana." It's interesting that you keep using imagery of sustenance, of providing nourishment, as a mother, as a life-giver, as a care-taker, in many different shades.
Also interesting is that you tend to also get used up, you get eaten away. And whether it is through that method or not, you bring forth change in the other one. They partake of you, and are transformed through you.
This poem makes food prominent in the title. This piece makes the act of you getting not just eaten, but devoured, eaten away very explicit in the very first line.
And it happens in a sacred place. It's almost ritualistic.
A place of wildness, and you speak of yourself, and what you seek. You seek the berries of the wild. You are the berries of the wild.
Yet rituals, even if they now belong to paganic and long-forgotten cultures, are still an aspect that is cultural, societal. There is always another.
Even the rites of Bacchus and of possession are cultured ways of being uncivlized.
And so is poetry, a very cultured way of being raw and so-called uncultured and free, and wild. It's structured wildness.
It is like what you spoke of before, the agitation that leads to a pearl. The agitation can be premeditated, and the pearl wild. Or both can be cultured. And yet no act of creation is fully cultured, fully civilized, fully constrained.
And so is sex. And its related matters of procreation, and courtship. Agitation and the pearl. Civilized and uncultured. Hand in hand.
And you want the wildness. You desire it wild. You desire it sensuously, immediate, raw. You speak of the need.
But you also speak of it in the small ways, steeped in culture, and in communication. You speak of it as soft longing.
This piece speaks to that tension, between the passion that was, and its wild intensity, and the cultured agitation of its memory, that brings forth this piece.
<3
Sticky, syrupy dew drip desires, ripe sweet fruit, bubbling with crystalline sparkling seduction.
<3
Wow!
<3
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