Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2014
I'm a tongue of emerald
piercing the moon shadowed
skin of your paper neck,
paralysed, paralysed, paralysed,
painted red and almost immortal.
Oh darling, you are all mine,
from your saxophone kisses,
to every leaf you octoberly
watched fall.

you caught my broken glass
and treated it like diamond.
Dean Eastmond
Written by
Dean Eastmond  Weymouth
Please log in to view and add comments on poems