Luce Darwin

My Mantra (Cravings) - Poem by Luce Darwin

Your syllables are my mantra,
two most repeated intonations,
a rise and a light fall,
that most resonant, sonorous sound.
Your syllables are my whispers
while lying on the lawn,
and I am your wasted, impetuous sundial,
pulling your stars towards my sun,
my frenzied, but devout sun,
with its insidious glow,
though you never take notice to my
my mantras,
or my slothful cravings.
I have lost all decorum,
all reticence,
but I am not a libertine.
I am your manic zealot,
your patron saint.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Poem Edited: Thursday, September 12, 2013

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