Nightmares & cold sweats in midnight hours;
hauntings of Evil, like ghosts’, run naked & lucid.
Tassled hair, damp sheets, once a cool breeze upon my naked limbs;
full-rich orbed moon shines, casts spiritual shadows.
Thunderous moans inside my head as well as outside my sill;
rain pellets glass like tiny eggshells pecking against my brain.
Stained with horror, eyes flick open, twilight plays games of color within my lids;
i gasp, roll, turn & gasp again as voices of long dead ancestors echo outside the door.
Smells of recent sexual pleasures, a cold body against my own;
a tremble escapes, quivering my limbs, a thought of early evening joys.
A memory, a smell, a caress, a single kiss———
she sweats in cold, damp, vapor;
i see her, perhaps for the first time, as pale, white, a ghost from my past–
but now my future.
Purification empties my stomach, staining her thigh.
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I enjoyed reading this piece. It was interesting to read because it is a lot different than most of the other writing pieces on this site. This poem is deep and mature. The sensory details you used are beneficial because they help to create an image in the reader’s mind. My favorite line is, “Rain pellets glass like tiny eggshells pecking against my brain.”
Thank you for your comment. I appreciate that. I re-read from time to time, consider some word choice changes. But in the end, I just leave it as it is. I try to paint sensory images for the reader, “to take them there”; in that moment. Create a feeling. Sometimes it works, sometimes not so much. 🙂 Thanks again for reading.