Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2016
you are lovely in the light diffused by the clouds
like bruises on an orange creamsicle,
wind playing games with our hearing:
i think i have always known you, it sings, its voice a syncretism of
yours and mine

the trees die extravagant deaths and autumn is both the murderer and the funeral procession, and i
can't help but laugh every time you say you've never felt weather this cold—wait until you kiss me, i think
because you are a desideratum of a desiduous tree, and i am
some kind of plummeting, some kind of fall
twelve caesuras
Written by
twelve caesuras  suicide notes, love poems
(suicide notes, love poems)   
     tc, Argentum and Mike Adam
Please log in to view and add comments on poems