The subtle bliss of distance

A Poem by John Sweet

With white light pouring from
the palms of your hands, with the
sky laid bare above overhead, blue and
endless and filled with the places
i want to touch you.

My hunger, which is more than
the hunger of 24 corpses in a small
burning village, which is more than
the lies of men with rifles, and I am
listening with broken arms and splintered
teeth as the President promises victory.

Promises the sky, and I will
press you hard against it, will whisper
the threats of old lovers into your ear
until you cum, and you will beg
for the names of the dead and I will
give you only excuses.

Will caress your naked breasts with
the purest of heartfelt lies.

Would ask for nothing more than
the soft weight of your hands
placed over my eyes like hope.

---

John Sweet sends greetings from the rural wastelands of upstate NY. He is a firm believer in writing as catharsis, and in the continuous search for an unattainable and constantly evolving absolute truth. His latest poetry collections include A FLAG ON FIRE IS A SONG OF HOPE (2019 Scars Publications) and A DEAD MAN, EITHER WAY (2020 Kung Fu Treachery Press).