*He lets go
of her hand,
his hungry eyes -
wanting to trap
her image
in them forever -
look at her
desperately,
wanting her
to read them.
The silence
between them,
pregnant
with unspoken
words,
becomes too dense
for him to breathe.
His mind goes numb.
He tears his eyes
away from her
and turns
to walk away...
...the wind
lashes against
his face,
as the coldness
of their parting
bites into his heart.
------
She felt
the warmth
leave her hand
as he drew his,
away from her ;
her tears held back
in quiet dignity.
The detached smile
decieved words
wanting to
touch her lips.
She looked away
from him
lest, her eyes
gave her away.
Bearing
a resigned look,
watching him
walk away,
her eyes
silently
call out...*
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 2:40 AM UTC
*He lets go
of her hand,
his hungry eyes -
wanting to trap
her image
in them forever -
look at her
desperately,
wanting her
to read them.
The silence
between them,
pregnant
with unspoken
words,
becomes too dense
for him to breathe.
His mind goes numb.
He tears his eyes
away from her
and turns
to walk away...
...the wind
lashes against
his face,
as the coldness
of their parting
bites into his heart.
------
She felt
the warmth
leave her hand
as he drew his,
away from her ;
her tears held back
in quiet dignity.
The detached smile
decieved words
wanting to
touch her lips.
She looked away
from him
lest, her eyes
gave her away.
Bearing
a resigned look,
watching him
walk away,
her eyes
silently
call out...*
Akka, I was thinking about the different formats ( http://hellopoetry.com/poem/a-complimentary-complaint/ ) in which you write poems....just wanted to say I love them. Your poems speak through the style in which you write them.
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