SIGN UP AND GET 10% OFF

SIGN UP AND GET 10% OFF SIGN UP AND GET 10% OFF

The Reliever

By Thomas Preston Brownlee, October 8, 2021

Read time: 2 Mins

The Reliever Image

love, entrancement, obsession and relief.

Let impeding sorrow be vanquished in soft, warm sun.

Catch me as I fall in newly wrapped amazement.

Squeeze me in limbs so loving.

Let me dance on sweet cushioned lip.

Liquified peace and release.

I’m enchanted and entranced by her grace.

Lay me down in satin sheets.

Slipping, sliding and floating forever more in bare emotion.

I am free.

Free to let my heart wrangle new beasts.

Leap forward to snatch the beauty that lays before it.

Newly enchanted,

in gently stirred whimsical whirlwind.

Give me life, take it away.

Birth me into canals of sullen madness.

Walk down strange streets.

Journey to distant land,

none to be found.

Immobilised by the coloured wildfire.

Burn me in classless freedom.

Burn me in crawling lust.

A will to live and siphon freedom from your soul,

in nature’s purest essence.

Drag me through streets of hot dance. 

Night’s hard liquor.

Liquid dance swallows the children.

Deranged danger. 

Pleasure.

I touched you and my soul flickered.

Turn out the lights.

Let its infinite flame display no dismay only love and crucifixion.

Ancient birth.

Crystal promise.

Pour out my sorrow and tears.

Wrap them in luxuriant tinsel gratification.

Take them away.

Drown them in drunken bliss.

Nonsensical sensual expression.

You grant me pleasure and peace.

Turn the key.

Unlock moonlit love,

and lush kiss.

Enter velvet vanilla dreams.

Tenaciously presses heart in heart,

tossed in tinged warm light.

Climb into your body.

Swim in your soul.

I believe in thunder, wind, rain.

I believe you are the 5th.

Called to spread beauty and grace.

Raw enteral love.

Crimson fear.

Tame me.

Maim me.

Tell me your secrets.

Whisper.

Pour in the melted golden syrup. 

Impressionism is dead.

I have the real thing.

Return to issues