Hanging Gardens

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


And my penance is 


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. 


  1. Reference to John Milton’s epic poem, Paradise Lost

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



model: @grib_dozzhdevik


Category: ART

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