my amadain

my Amadain, my sweet succulent soul
the call from the crow that wakes me from slumber
greeting days’ light with beauty’s plump promise

my Amadain, my wilted flower
that beyond death and past decay still beams forth with growth
and curls its greenish tendons around my legs to pull me in

my Amadain, my magnificent spirit
who blew the walls down which encapsulated my dreams
and decimated false levity

my Amadain, my beautiful, sweet,
magnificent cunt
I love you

Published by bernardsbarnes

Writer. Artist. Performer. A little boy dreaming of the stars.

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