Cliches are interesting. To think, one time they went by completely unused! And when they came into existence? They were entirely new. Throughout the years, their meaning and uniqueness fade. By the time you come to appreciate writing, what was once born of brilliance and creativity is "avoided like the plague".
Le petit mort
My breath lingers in the air but I long,
for yours to join me
These silken sheets feel all too cool on my skin,
Would have nothing on you
Heat blossoms from inside but you
refuse my moans,
Trapped away in your hurtling metal cage,
my dear, I long for your skilled and heated touch.
Oh, how these cool sheets crumple
From passion, their silken indifference
no match for,
this hot ardour and passion,
these ripples are but candles
to the flame
begging for you inside me
Writhing, how can I contain
this possession of violent desire?
for a little death.
A call to dreamers
shame the Tower of Babylon
and surpass the skies.
look past the threshold of heaven
and reap a destiny.
Dream in rage
the walls of Jericho had long fallen
dread not the bends and charge straight.
Dream of new
be faithful of dawns and wary of dusks
despair the old and carve a different you.
Dream in justice
the skulls in Calvary have rued their fate
abhor the cold and end its solstice.