Quite often,
a memory of you will to settle lightly on my forehead
whilst I lay in bed.
I brush it away, and then the persistent little fly will inevitably find its way back onto my deadened hide to
lay
down
its
pestilence.
Though, last night,
I did resort to set these thoughts to flame,
and then I watched your vestige float away
on melancholy clouds of loveless smoke.
Drifted then did I to restless sleep.
And there,
the sullen ashes from my fire fell
amongst impassioned ghosts you'd left behind;
hiding there, in refuge of my mind,
and words held captive with them intertwined.
So then with every settling debris,
from sleeping lips a fickle utterance fell,
"Leave me, darling, come not now, for see;
a vow from you will not once more bode well."
Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 12:28 AM UTC
Quite often,
a memory of you will to settle lightly on my forehead
whilst I lay in bed.
I brush it away, and then the persistent little fly will inevitably find its way back onto my deadened hide to
lay
down
its
pestilence.
Though, last night,
I did resort to set these thoughts to flame,
and then I watched your vestige float away
on melancholy clouds of loveless smoke.
Drifted then did I to restless sleep.
And there,
the sullen ashes from my fire fell
amongst impassioned ghosts you'd left behind;
hiding there, in refuge of my mind,
and words held captive with them intertwined.
So then with every settling debris,
from sleeping lips a fickle utterance fell,
"Leave me, darling, come not now, for see;
a vow from you will not once more bode well."
A MODIFICATION OF "i hope this is the last ******* poem i ever write about you."
