You asked me of a poem
I offered you all my emptiness and melancholy
You sniffed out the quietness of the woods
And yelled out for a Poem.
I offered you my thighs and breasts
You chewed off its woody stem
You cry loud. “Damn, I want a poem”.
I tear open my wrists
My bleeding veins I offer you
Ink runs from the corners of your mouth
Satisfied?
You belch yet cry for more….
© Sarada
April 6,2016
An exquisite,powerful piece underlining the insatiable nature of the poetic muse.
Thank you very much sir!