To Juliet

My skin is not translucent
and is stretched to hide
your venom in my veins,
but when I smell your hair
or see the forests in your gaze,
the perspiration in my palms
confesses to the cravings
you are boiling in my blood.

Juliet by
John William Waterhouse

A short poem for Merril on the prompt at dVerse on Secrets.

January 21, 2020

20 responses to “To Juliet

  1. kaykuala

    confesses to the cravings
    you are boiling in my blood.

    A craving that appears to be tinged with anger and caution. It can be a surprised discovery!

    Hank

  2. I love the confession of perspiration. And your adept use of body imagery throughout, the stretched skin, the smells, the sights, the pure embodiment of passion and how it takes over like poison and we glory in it.

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