Treasure Island

Ananta Madhavan


Failed Romantic


The stilled heart grows turbulent.
A love-storm is churning
If I were strong of will,
I would stall the recurrent blood tide;
I would be rock
And petrify my inner eye,
As a sightless Grecian bust.
But now I see
Those undecoded eyes
That cannot speak to me
Except as pulsars.

Submitted: Friday, July 11, 2014

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Topic(s): romantic

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