Erotic Poem – “The Bough, the Bush, and the Berry” – Romance

In all I crave, I stand before shore and ship, At the lash of some sailor and his whip. At the command of God above, and pauper below, I am here to make a home in the loneliness of a tide, And there are memories in mind. And, in my arms, Where blood makes stains against my long-coat, A woman pules and grieves newest after newest tear, For an ending to what made her at a loss For something I aimed to steal, Though, had brought myself to take. Virginity from womanhood, and I am not the thief in the night, But, I am the man barren in his guilt. There is blood upon a dagger, a wound in a woman, And fewer than ever, places to perform my suicide. There is this lonely ocean, With tides against my ankles, And, I want nothing more than to say farewell, To all the world and its woes, For I believe I’ve caused Them all, and then some more. My guilt is this ocean, and this ocean is my home, Its tide, as well, my place to feel a belonging, For distance, as well as certainty To be calm, as well as afraid, Of where to go, in my place among the waves.
Erotic Poem – “The Bough, the Bush, and the Berry” – Romance

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