Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2012
As adolescent night falls
He drifts in my dreams
His harsh and angry words
Causing hardness
Leave Turin stencils on my sheets
The feared bruising of our lips
In geometry of circular mouths
Does not stop our history
Prompts navigation
Leaves pleasure un-distilled
Edgar Whitman Wilde
Written by
Edgar Whitman Wilde
984
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems