Poets logo

Come to Me Pale

(A Poem from Blackward, an Anthology)

By Aaron SteelePublished 2 years ago 1 min read
Woman in White

I white you,

Weave you,

Steal your


Pen dangles


Saucered eye,

Poised to pilfer, parade


Statuesque, exalted, spooned

In creased palm.

You sit, thin legs crossed,

Head back, arched beauty.

Across the room.

Dark strands slid

On shadowed neck,

Imperfection vivid,


Floral filters inhale

Your skin, smooth, porcelain,

Restless tongue clicking

Dream rhythms.

Slipping imagined

Hand over tight,

Flaming body,

Collapsed in sun-bred


You, curled,

Draped luxuriously on envied

Chair, feminine warmth

Draining sunrise onto

Frothing path.

Bodies crept to touch

Without contact,

Without embrace

Of loveless


Sheer, animalistic


Vibrations of your breath

Gyrate across enticed nodes,



Pressing voice to voice,

Words splitting air.

Molecules reject, eyes part

Splitting atoms

To fire motion.

Those painfully anxious nights

Sweated, lonely,

Dying for your coolness,

Your pale;

Your touch on marble corpse:

Drowning, pessimistic,

Sighing when you can’t listen,

Weeping alone, so you can’t feel sorry,

Dying where you’ll never know.

White me, tempt my sight,

Use ignited vision

To free this,

Tamed wraith,

A fretful invertebrate

Chained to another

Lifeless beauty.


About the Creator

Aaron Steele

As a novelist, Aaron seeks to capture the frailty of the human spirit and the power and unpredictability of nature. Inspired by the sway of the hammock and warm crash of the Floridian waves his ideas flow from daydream to page. #pinebluff

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights


There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2023 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.