Arms weakened by love
It is as if you still stand between these four walls,
forever kissed by you.
Holding me in your arms weakened by love.
Smearing pollen into my open pores,
as my sleeping blossoms began to open for you.
Searching for the epicentre of their bloom,
careful not to tread over their sprouting roots.
White lilies undressed of their innocence sheets,
and soaked, their somnolent petals in blood,
from my heart leaks,
caused by its furious races in my rib cage.
Your abandoned vulnerabilities
welcomed the fragrant infatuation of their toxic embrace.
And your fluctuating currents,
swaying in the haunting light of honeymoon,
helped to disperse their fertile seeds
to the outskirts of our expanding neighbourhood.
Looking now at the red weed,
crawling around my room like blood veins,
It is as if you still hold these walls up,
their cracks sturdily sealed by your kisses,
and my strong arms forever weakened by your love.