EVENTUALLY IT WILL BE ASH WHEN I AM DUST, BUT NOW...

I feel lust for the same reason

as I breath the air -

I couldn't exist without it,

not since I first felt it stirring,

like I would have grown hooves on

my feet and horns on my brow.

This blazing lust, like the oxygen

in my lungs and blood,

keeps me going, hammering

these words in its forge,

turning the yearning

into my long epitaph.

03.08.2024

Poem Poems Poetry Verse

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