and as the night
drips down the walls
like sweet molasses
i, too
go quietly
the sweet surrender closing
over my head
in autumn cold i lose the sound
of your voice, dripping
in hues of gold and royal blue
- curse my pockmarked memory
for not retaining
the velvet tenor
of my name rolling off your tongue
like a prayer
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 1:09 AM UTC
and as the night
drips down the walls
like sweet molasses
i, too
go quietly
the sweet surrender closing
over my head
in autumn cold i lose the sound
of your voice, dripping
in hues of gold and royal blue
- curse my pockmarked memory
for not retaining
the velvet tenor
of my name rolling off your tongue
like a prayer
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