Blossom Poem by Arwen Undomiel

The night blooms into orgasmic pleasure
As my tears for you wax and wane.
The soft ground under my feet,
The smell of air on my skin.
I breathe you in and I exhale.
Night bloodied is the sky,
Stained with thoughts of you.
Chaotic in one accord.
I do not remember, but I never forget.
My reflection staring back at me,
And how it shimmers.
I touch the liquid shine as it envelops my fingertips.
Oh, how I lick them dry.
Standing endlessly, holding the child of yesterday.
And I think to myself, ‘it is all mine.’
Take the blade and cut it deep.
Shed the blood of deceit, let it flow.
I shall feast on your reflection,
And I will lick myself dry.
Cold as the night,
Oh how it wax and wanes.