Poetry, Thoughtful

by my own hand

I remember when my body erupted in pleasure.
At first, my body shuts down–
my eyes blank, my breath loud in the sudden silence.
Then, I was set aflame.
My body shook greatly, a hurricane
breathing its gale winds,
a tempestuous tsunami crashing, stealing,
wrecking with malicious intent,
an earthquake splintering the earth’s plates,
fracturing as I float past the heavens.
Stars met my earthbound eyes,
my skin kissed by flickering,
fluorescent flames by the sun’s fiery rays.

–I laugh–

How thrilling life can be at the ripe,
incandescent age of twenty-one.
Power at my fingertips,
my face unlined by damning heartbreaks,
internal and external strifes,
and the fickle grace of age.
My gaze reaches Nirvana,
a full circle compete as my body
touches the ground once more.
“I have never felt more alive!”–
a power distributed and ensured by my own hand.

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