open poetry by NOREIA RAIN (25 September 2020)
this cinnamon-red darkness, this fire. my veins all aflame with a thousand pinpricks of yes. your arms like trees, the icescapes of your eyes.
lover, these days of molten longing. awake in the night,
winedrunk visions of your fingers like smooth red
stones on my hungry skin. not yet touched. untasted.
spices and smoke swirl in the coal-grey air like serpents. all of my being pulsates with this nighttime drum, the percussion drawing me out completely, turning bloodred petals toward a rose-red sky. open.
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