Poetry

Killing me.

by  •  • 8 Comments 
I came back again
the full God, an opus
of your eye; I am her mad 
spring—she wants to see
how far we flay in
our garden beds
and I am your tragedy in diaphanous arms
of the moon growing 
 silhouette 

 rising to the thunderbird;

she’s killing me more
than I ever could

© 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved

  8 comments for “Killing me.”

  1. J. P. K. | J.SYS
    February 22, 2021 at 7:42 am

    Maybe to face it once and for all,
    through god-like sight.
    After a stormy fall,
    shining bright.
    Monsun.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply
    • J. P. K. | J.SYS
      February 22, 2021 at 7:43 am

      *monsoon

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
    • Lucy
      February 22, 2021 at 10:20 am

      Beautiful and true. ❤️❤️

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
      • J. P. K. | J.SYS
        February 22, 2021 at 10:41 am

        ❤

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Ingrid
    February 22, 2021 at 8:09 am

    Excellent poem, Lucy 🤩

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

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