Wilderness, a poem by Emma Wells at Spillwords.com
Ilona Panych



written by: Emma Wells


Inner consciousness bursts awake:
normally drugged, subdued by daily drudgery;
sleep is hazy like narcotics
dripping with gleeful, gregarious ribbons
as a fickle child with a new dress.

In the strangest wildernesses,
I find you.

Buried in a pocket of my soul
you lie dormant
only rippling at edges
as an uncurled fan
eager to taste the breeze
with papery lips
blessed as tongues in communion.

Rubble-clad roads
all lead to you
beyond screaming ‘STOP’ signs
I press on, tunnelling under rocky bracken
tearing jeans and feral flesh
gazing high to your eyrie heaven.

At the summit,
my heart is an oaken door;
I hear its labours
fighting with gales in storms
slamming it shut in tempestuous tides
like rowing lovers cast adrift
both plunging oars for watery escape.

Your face would unravel me;
your eyes see through the fuzz
as neon runners on darkened streets.

I have to retreat. Hide.

I keep burrowing,
focusing downwards at thinking feet
whom know too much
as blind priests at confession;
my rotary beads are vapour
invisibly twisting in lost hands
searching for your anchoring eyes…

Knowing only you can divine me:

Like this.
And here.

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