Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2013
Pens fall from lips
quietly inside
a rush
of
dusty mouths laid
across the oceans piano.

The blood stricken
fruit of my heart
drips wine into
a salt rimmed glass.

Truth stained in his
wide, fragile, grin.
VioletNova
Written by
VioletNova
439
   Aarin Mullins
Please log in to view and add comments on poems