By Marshall Hann
Submitted by Blessed23
Date: 2013 Jun 05
Comment on this Work
[[2013.06.05.02.51.7046]]

Longing

It is 11:52 pm
and I sit here
by myself
drinking red wine
red,
the colour of a woman’s welcoming lips
that are able
to devour you
and your inadequacies
with their hungry softness

the colour of
hearts
(that alien thing
that I have contained within
my chest
but have never quite been able to understand)
mixing together in the dark,
furiously taking hold of another body
another soul
for brief moments
that can create an inexhaustible contentment

the colour
of a passionate love
given without reservations
with no hesitation
that teaches this nomadic sloth
that there is nothing greater
than the warmth
of another body
given to
a
tiny and insignificant
Man
that is crushed between
his own idiocy
and inadequacies
(the pleasures and appreciation
of waking up each morning
to her generously understanding eyes)

a woman’s skin
and mind
can tame the most incorrigible devil
with her incorrigibly perfect beauty
laid before you
naked
and spread open

she can bring you from mere survival
to forging an entrance into eternity
she can give you everything
as easily as she can take it all
away

and you gave
me your lips, your
soul,
your very essence
you devoured my inadequacies
with your lips
and smile
your words
granted me a reason
to believe
in every atom of the universe
again,
to believe that there is such a thing
as greatness and happiness
to be found
somewhere in all the calloused humanity
that surrounds me
you taught me
that there is nothing greater
than you
you gave me enlightenment
with such casualness
that I remain stunned
and stupid
consumed by sorrow and endless thoughts
about what is gone
(what is no longer
here)

Red,
the colour of blood
bled in moments
of longing
of remembering
and cursing one’s self
for every bloody mistake

it is now 12:19 am
I am consumed
by the presence of your absence
and I am still drinking red wine
alone

red,
the colour of blood,

the colour,
of
Hell.