WOUNDS

After the famous touch the ebb started in my life and exposed a wound on the sea shore that still exists, forcing me to write this poem :

Wound

Those loving touches on me you left

Are wounds that doesn’t heal,

And all the bliss I ever dreamt-

Haunt my senses still.

Two loving palms that lifted my soul

And shared the warmth of heart

Is thrown today where cannibals prowl,

To be ripped and torn apart.

Today I languish in the woods -

Loving the birds and bees,

But still today those mortal wounds

Intermittently bleed.