Journey to Ixtlan

The need to meet is rooted deep in the human psyche. The aftermath is forgotten in the moment, but a reckoning will come.


Passion Spent
Poem for Day 092 – 20150402

When we awake from this moment of bliss,
the angels will look down on the fallen.
Temptation is cajoling us into acts forbidden,
the due bill pending as passions are spent.
Think not of others, their opinions discarded,
in our blinded flash of urgent needs.
What will we see, what will we hear,
when this fog of passion's drive is cleared?

Clothes are removed, scattered about,
guilty trail of the lovers' progress.
Will we awake naked in the day's sunrise,
only to be garbed in the light of fresh regrets?
Everything is revealed, no inch not seen,
yet we are ignorant of each other beyond the skin.
Intimate stranger, perfect receptacle,
masks hide the humanity that dwells below.

I've lost my voice, speaking with body alone,
what will I say to you in day next?
We shared a connection bare and intimate,
and cannot say anything in speech mundane.
We are spent, with night pressing in,
angels scatter in fear of tomorrow.
Temptation has taken us beyond ourselves,
possessing all, yet our souls are lost in exchange.

© 2015. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved