Song of These Last Encounters

This is just so damn fine poetry. Hauntingly beautiful. Excellent imagery.

Wuji Seshat

I have lost self to love
Permanently, now by this heart
Furled, in primitive ecstasy
My relationship with the world
Is now a suppliant violin’s moan

That drags itself to dovelet cooing
These moments are lucid gifts
Of touching and nearing
The broad brightness where self is forgotten
Pain lurking in an unknown smile

I have lost the bravery of battle
Against this harsher world
I have only whispered steps enshrined
Left to twist my path, a needlework
Of rustling greenery, I am not real

Life’s touch is an unflinching desire
I follow her narrow canal to the light
There I will consent to rest my head
On your womb, enter you heartlose on the scale
With lots of luck, songs of last encounters

I have lost self to love, cast adrift
In one-night stands of the dark house
Where lovers whisper “come die with me!”

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