A breath caught
left with lungs that won't empty,
and a spinning mind that won't quit.
Nothing but a sliver of darkness
now separates our peeking souls.
Thrown-out of hiding
by flames that lick the air
-akin to the striking of a match-
our eyes lock and intertwine
like grape vines, just before the dawn.
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 12:27 AM UTC
A breath caught
left with lungs that won't empty,
and a spinning mind that won't quit.
Nothing but a sliver of darkness
now separates our peeking souls.
Thrown-out of hiding
by flames that lick the air
-akin to the striking of a match-
our eyes lock and intertwine
like grape vines, just before the dawn.
