Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2016
we get dressed before the dying embers of fire
the air is plugged with a deadly silence
empty bottles lay scattered amidst an endless mess of sweat and sheets
the seconds pass with an intense touch of tender bittersweet
your kitchen floor is cold and i collapse in a heap of endless longing
of your lips on my hips, of your blinding touch in an explosion of mindless ecstasy
es
Written by
es  Singapore
(Singapore)   
788
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems