Photo Challenge #75 Trapped and Wordle #213


– vishstudio


A lucid wine saturates your lips,

A kiss that stains my hollows, luminous.

Is it captivity I crave or imprisonment?

A moment devoid of everything save

My own feckless, habitual ravings.

There are no winners here,

There is only commitment,

A crippled attempt at being human

(Though that implies so little these days).

I would rather be foreign,

A puzzle chiseled through bone and sinew.

My choices are my own,

They come of temptation

They come like honey through

My interchangeable veins.

However, superior the pursuit

There are always those

Who would designate less.

I cannot find a way of escaping the confines

Of my own dumb sentience, the singular gift

Transfusing and exasperating my sorrows.

A man is nothing if not a scavenger of egos.