The Poet

Humanity in its rawness is animal

We with our gold and china

are primitive

All I crave is for a love like death

a death

who leaves me gasping for breath

a death

bringing me more alive

and sometimes I wonder why your hands

are so far from now

and it pains me

the melody

the touch

and the eyes

which make me think of love or lust

because I am without

I am a lost soul in the garden of Eden

Trying to be numb

Instead of feeling

As all passion secretes from my body

and leaves me behind

I cry because all I know is sorrow

and when I smile it is because all I know is joy

What was then is now archaic and everything I do will someday be too.