Submitted by short-prose-fiction
give me the stars
that shine under the bridges
where poor children spend their nights
the blood that leaks from wounds of war
when the last piece of bread is turned in tar
give me the language of your alabaster gestures
the guilty passion of Tristan for Queen Isolde
the mystery of painted nudes on walls
the cries of nuns under an angel’s lacerated wing
your untranslated love coiled in a tarnished ring
About the Poet
“I am a published author, and an academic. However, here I am just a humble blogger, a voice among billions of others. Every post that I write is for you. I do not seek accolades. All I seek is to touch your hearts.”
Photo Credit: René Magritte – The Lovers
Advertisements