Dream of Baton Rouge

I was in the poppies.
You were a vacancy,
a flower shaped hole in my world.
It was there, that I wanted.
I wanted so badly and I wanted to share it with you;
the wanting.
The carving of red emptiness out of a void.
Red words that wanted to be read aloud and to you;
In the poppies.

It was in the poppies, I think.
The jasmine and the dahlias had wilted to brown emptiness.
You were there, in red and I wanted.
A red yearning (the poppies)
so fierce and hollowing, so reticent, so empty,
so eager to be shared,
and I wanted to pick them for you.

I was right there in the poppies.
A solitary moment in the wanting.
Standing there, with all my red desires,
smears rimming my eyes and the corners of my mouth,
The shame,
I almost showed it to you. The red one.
There in the poppies.
#poem #poetry #writeLGBTQ #writing #APoemEveryNight

Dream of Baton Rouge

I was in the poppies.
You were a vacancy,
a flower shaped hole in my world.
It was there, that I wanted.
I wanted so badly and I wanted to share it with you;
the wanting.
The carving of red emptiness out of a void.
Red words that wanted to be read aloud and to you;
In the poppies.

It was in the poppies, I think.
The jasmine and the dahlias had wilted to brown emptiness.
I were there, in red and I wanted.
A red yearning (the poppies)
so fierce and hollowing, so reticent, so empty,
so eager to be shared,
and I wanted to pick them for you.

I was right there in the poppies.
A solitary moment in the wanting.
Standing there, with all my red desires,
smears rimming my eyes and the corners of my mouth,
The shame,
I almost showed it to you. The red one.
There in the poppies.
#poem #poetry #writeLGBTQ #writing #APoemEveryNight