Scent of sweaty armpits
Taste of shared orange
Tea brewed too long
Wood stove in
Winter
Tap my beauty marked arm
Meet my gaze with fire
Perpetual
With hard wood
Bending
Melting together how
The snow outside builds
Luminous growth
Overflows
My will
Falling now in boots made
For much worse context
Force of power
Larger than
Snow's storm
A large collection of
Life's little moments
Wrapped like flowers
Delivered
By hand
The windows are covered
The door can't open
Happily stuck
In warmth and
Passion
Vanquished yet full of life
A blank canvas speaks
Soul is molded
To fit lines
I write.
About the Creator
Kiki Le Tigre
Kiki Le Tigre is a part-time poet, part-time human, committed to honest self expression. This expression is made public in hopes of inspiring others, or creating a connection point for those who may feel lost. Email: [email protected]
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We'z Walking on a Path Ruled By Numbers
This road has felt endless, yet limited; every step tracked. Inching away along this path, I feel trapped. Confined. Left to this narrow passage that may one day amount to something greater. Time is not a concept. Only distance. From start to finish, I laugh and cry and attempt to convince myself that this is worth it. I cannot stray. I must keep going. Every step etched, is a step taken, is measured as more than before. I cannot even recall how I got here. Maybe I don’t even really exist. Just another tick marking off a perceived presence. Of what though? I am just another line drawn. Nothing more, nothing less.
By Oneg In The Arctic5 days ago in Fiction
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