Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2013
You, my dear, are a work of art -
you are both the poison and the cure
for my easy heart
And no rain will come for my burning soul,
I'll burn until my heart is dust.
Alas, how I wish to hold yourย soft hair
and be the last whisper in your ear
as you drift afar into your dreams
my dearest dearest darling
Written by
Julie Slonecki
506
   sassybutsweet
Please log in to view and add comments on poems