literature

Essence

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KaplaIytra's avatar
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Literature Text

Your voice, unique resonance,
That gives you a tone of diplomacy,
Assertiveness, and still gentle and lovely.

How is it that behind your tonality,
Is mystique, yet I know the science?

How is it these telephone lines travel
These long stretches of welded wires,
To surge through powerful, crackling energy,
And instead of death, I hear your voice?

Or when the flowers are germinated
And open like a chest to let loose their offspring,
Why do they, along with the birth and death
Set loose your whispers that excite me?

In each shining surface, full fruit, marred mirror,
I replace my face, my voice with your disguise.
You unknowing protector, my beautiful benefactor,
I envy those ellipse eyes, thin ink stroke of a smile.

Each essence of every being holds new things,
And now
They are you.

I have cut myself off, denied, blinded myself
To hold you, even touch you would be hallucinatory.
I seek in sensuality, and I bask in fear of it.
I fear and desire the glint of gold.

Inexperience? Do I hold that old chain
To root me back into the naiveté I held?
To squeeze and wrench, wasting these words,
To forever draw the last drop of meaning from the well?
Am I that spectre that haunts these hallways,
Lost in their distance, the mnemonics, their stories,
Shoving my spirit, the third mask into the stash,
To wander again into foreign conversation?

Your talk of others inflames my roots,
Electrifies nerves like what I would imagine
If you were my companion, an essence of being
That nurtured my nervous nature naturally,
Just like the best figure of my darting dreams,
Instead, I fill in seams for every scar I draw and you give me.
Your influence has wrapped me to sleep in the sublime.  

And now you are an essence of the essence.

Your voice, unique resonance,
Is like an old record, an old song,
Where each groove is a memory,
That never existed, like fake scars.
My eyes water, spinning incessantly.
I leave scratches in each rotation
And fall back to listen, asleep, dried-eyed,
To the ballad of your independent, beautiful melody.
Love scares me: I've enjoyed Storge, and Agape and Phileo have been difficult but successful. Eros though... 
It's why I leave it to imagination.
© 2015 - 2024 KaplaIytra
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