April PAD 2: Hell Hath No Doors

HELL HATH NO DOORS

At this hour of the morning
perhaps someone else awaits
a familiar visitor,
someone else awaits footsteps,
and breathy greetings,
feeling a defined heat
like the flames crawling
from my confused fingers
fueled by fists, bellowed by trembling

perhaps someone else, somewhere else
is meeting a house guest
this dark hour of the morning,
feeling the heat that I once felt
like kindling that could snap
with the graze of a charged fingertip

flickering paranoia, scorching desire.

At this hour of the morning
no one dares to walk guiltless,
as sure-footedness betrays
confidence for what it is
 
broken silence,

but the tiptoes that enter 
this eternal furnace of our bed 
screams your blatant wish 
to only visit me instead.



Prompt: Write a poem about a visitor



****
I wrote two poems today (the other one is posted in the comments at the Poetic Asides Community) but this one was interrupted by school and other obligations. Forgive me for posting late and thank you for stopping by!

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2 thoughts on “April PAD 2: Hell Hath No Doors

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