Grasp my Soul like a Nettle
Fragments of Sensory Hunger
One day the sun will rise
shine into my eyes
a blinding clarity
filling my already overloaded eye sockets
where heaviness of sight resides
One day the chime of bells
will fill the spirals of my ears
drowning out the noise of everyday
in my tinnitus-howling eardrums
where silence is a guest
One day the scent of the apple tree
will bloom seductively in my nose
an intoxicating odeur of spring
within the primitivity of my olfactory cells
where perfumed smoke lingers
One day the fullness of wine
will wrap around the tip of my tongue
the roughness of oak in its taste
on the playful papillae of the tongue
where dull umami of food seasons
One day your hands
will touch my sunburnt skin
feel the warmth and the tenderness
the collective longing of synapses
where fabric clings
One day you will be there
grasp my soul like a nettle
twist and wrestle and love
body and intellect
in a blazing togetherness
About the Creator
Henrik Hageland
A poet, a writer of feelings and hope. A Dane and inhibitant of the Earth thinking about what is to come.
A good story told or invented. Human all the way through.
Want to know more? Visit Substack , my YouTube Channel or TikTok.
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