I woke up with your name on my lips
And dried tears on my face, craving you.
There's the shape of you in me, scotched in gold.
My body calls for you. A place I cannot name.
Are you playing me? If you are, I'll be your cello.
Obedient, servile. I'll sing for you when you pluck my strings.
I want you in a manner I can't describe.
Maybe the fresco on the Earl's ceiling. It hurts. I hurt.
Does it have to be this way?
I resume knitting the tapestry, humming our song.
Aching for you.
YOU ARE READING
Liberation: A Poetry Collection ∣✔Poetry
🌟Featured On The Official Wattpad Poetry Profile 🌟 ❝It's time to set me free. ❞ What readers say: "I read this, and I realized how beautiful you really are." "This is brutally damn awesome! Can you get any better?" "You have mastered the art of w...