Passion

to everything that passion does
there is this bleeding after which
perfection follows,

honestly, girl, i prefer it that way,
there is always a way to
perfect what we lost what we missed
what we are not,
what we were, what we are longing,

give yourself a chance, hold your breath,
let passion blind you
and then see so much light,
be perfect, because you were once
before they
tried to destroy you, come, come,

drink this blood, think of wine,
eat this body, think of beef,

we die, and then we are resurrected.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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