Through Black Paradise’s Ocean

we were quick but
not wanting to outrun
grace’s slow descent
pulled petals honouring
godlescence’s waitful watch.
at distance home’s heart
listens and recalls things
lost to seabed’s marital store,
yet as for terrestrial seas we thought
we were through black paradise’s ocean,
we were wet but not entrenched—
now we dream kissingly,
sharing fool’s honey by the
circle’s sacred eye, desiring life
better than this languid selfoscopy,
better than crashing ape’s marble meat
parade; we wanted young men’s souls
to touch your own, we wanted craters
made against the surface of your
subtle body’s billowing sheath,
your brave bowsprit—our cards
are soundly dealt, we dive backward
back into abyss, leaving ashes,
knowing history’s hard hours
are slow, and left alone the
heart’s bell rings incessant and
unheard—we retreat now laughingly,
filled with sardony and bad omen’s
recipes—alone you must wait,
our stuck pig, blind night’s
special supper, we will not
knock again.

Thanks for checking out my poem.

Did I tell you I wrote a novel? You can read it here for free, or get it for your e-reader on iBooks, Amazon or Kobo. Or you can just say you read the book, and donate five bucks down below. Go on.

Gabriel Muoio


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