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Anthony McKee Dec 2011
The bitter taste engulfs my mouth as I seal it shut
Running my finger along its ridges, its blood red mouth
Clasping half-heartedly. The past, gone with it. I frown,
Wondering, will the words ever meet your lips?
Not that I will ever know or hear them; it’s just a thought
An idea, me pondering. A wonder in itself.

I think of it now:
A rectangular bride to be;
Always close, but too far away
For one to love. We were preposterous really

Stuck in a childish fantasy - our eyes
Never mirrors. Never mixed equally.
But still we wandered blindingly into it all
Confidence aloof, affection confused,
Morals not withstanding, apply within.

Snow dusts the world outside as I call to slumber
The silence grows duller, a silence
That was filled of your thoughts once
What should fill it now? My own thoughts?

Or just prayer? Or perhaps I should leave it
Untainted, free from the obscene racket
The raucous laughter that we once shared
Wandering our own snow dusted worlds
Filling up our silences.

— The End —