A cloud of grasshoppers climb
From the rose that is my heart
It passed before the sun
Between the Moon and the crickets
Battalions of trials before security
I join the wandering and forget
Holiness, with an ordinary lust
For sensations I cannot find
They would trample the green
But I do not sense the freshness
Perhaps I have had too many lovers
Their nameless histories, inherited
In my corridor of tip-toe guilt
I’ve served the densest gardens
With the highest of intentions
But my lips are bruised on the lips
Of the bruised lips of those I have kissed
My virtues have been undressed by time.
Wuji Seshat 
I can smell the rawness of nature in your words. I’ve already grown addiction to your poems.
Yes the rawness of unfiltered desperation! Thanks for the attention, I need readers.
welcome 🙂
Love those last lines 🙂
Ah those last lines! xoxo
Wuji, your courage astonishes me. Well done.
Hehe Mikels, to keep on loving after what I have been through would be a kind of crazy courage I suppose 😛
It’s not crazy, it’s your meaning.