A secret paradise —
A paradise lost1
Hanging gardens are
Your eden tongues
That wraps around
My throat
And speak elegy
To innocence.
By the time you
Sink your fangs
Into my veins
I can’t feel a thing.
I mistake your
Red hourglass
For a rosehip
and you dine
Cracking me like
An oyster
Spooning me in
Fine silver.
You wipe your mouth on
These sheets
Which were otherwise
clean
And my penance is
Laundry
And my disobedience
Is keeping the
Scent of your hair
And what we
Do in this bed
Is cause for
War overhead
And perhaps
The next Revelation.
- Reference to John Milton’s epic poem, Paradise Lost https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45718/paradise-lost-book-1-1674-version
Frank Carellini tends to poetry as a mechanism to grasp the fleeting enormity of life, nature, consciousness. Raised in Brooklyn, NY, Frank has recently published poetry in Communion and Tiger Moth. Educated in business and biochemistry, he builds life science startups that make the world a bit better.
Contact Info
1-845-242-6212
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model: @grib_dozzhdevik
photographer @oneofus.photo
