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Feb 2011
you shed your androgyny in front of me
like the leaking of a dead poets mouth
prized convinction your are the killer of these things
bitten by your sharp nails
our souls blood is splattered on the wall
like a child's mess

we held hands and ran through the streets of wynwood
both nervous at the thought of people watching the passion
strangers who like to be alone
woven together in a harmonious mesh

we came across faces
and stood in that one corner and looked at that murial
on the cement wall
screaming out its makers message
in a thousand different emotions that linked to our past

I would tug your curls and they would bounce
you watched me smoke my cigarette
put on your artist eyes and pictured a painting in your head
using my ghost skin for your next piece

you drank my skin like milk hungrily
and I felt when my insides dripped down the
corners of your mouth
I throw my hands up in the air
and ask what can break me more than this

I sat in your kitchen in all black
and watched you cook me that fish, a recipe you probably
called your mother to ask for
you opened a bottle of white wine
we carried our glasses and sat outside
while I lit a smoke
your yard seemed like it was a haven for
bohemian children trying to escape South Florida's
cement buildings

you put your arm around me
and I nestled my head into your chest
at that moment I told myself here is the line
standing in front of me thick and red
shouting its warnings like old tapes of Hitlers speeches
preparing his soldiers to **** innocent children
and there it was standing like every sensitive poem I have ever read
like every painting that had a heart beat
like every smile my mother has ever shed

that red streak was not a finish line
but the beginning of something that would have turned into happy
years perhaps or just many painful nights, where I find it hard to breathe
and I thought to myself I can fall in love right now
I layed there listening to your heart beat
you kissed my forehead

I raised my head to look into your eyes
and beforeΒ Β I brought myself to make a decision
before I started feel my heart loose
I was already walking away to the place I have known the most
midnight prague
Written by
midnight prague
920
 
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