Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
katy-laurelPoems
A sip of smoke finds a path, Around the spirals of my fate. The blur of individuality Stops the painful memory Of taking my fingertips, My identity, Into your soft lips. What do you think now, naive ancient eternal love? Do you remember waking up To find my hair crawling towards your teeth? I slowly felt nocturnal curls pull me back to your tongue. So I cut it all off, And painted my visage with impulsive creativity. Your incandescent presence Drips with Parisian chords of street harps Praying Hallelujah to the Sacre Coeur steps. Please make this tremble of blood Return to a mortal rhythm. These disjointed bones of our past portrait Gaze up from the grave we carelessly built. Now, I return to see the selfish paint I threw upon her face. Those golden highlights sing alongside the praise of starlight, Beneath the temporal dust of our separation. I can't bare to look at you, So I mar my own past perfection, With some new hope to understand The graveyard you abandoned so long ago.
0
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 5:26 AM UTC
L. (A Rush of Dusk: Part I)
A sip of smoke finds a path, Around the spirals of my fate. The blur of individuality Stops the painful memory Of taking my fingertips, My identity, Into your soft lips. What do you think now, naive ancient eternal love? Do you remember waking up To find my hair crawling towards your teeth? I slowly felt nocturnal curls pull me back to your tongue. So I cut it all off, And painted my visage with impulsive creativity. Your incandescent presence Drips with Parisian chords of street harps Praying Hallelujah to the Sacre Coeur steps. Please make this tremble of blood Return to a mortal rhythm. These disjointed bones of our past portrait Gaze up from the grave we carelessly built. Now, I return to see the selfish paint I threw upon her face. Those golden highlights sing alongside the praise of starlight, Beneath the temporal dust of our separation. I can't bare to look at you, So I mar my own past perfection, With some new hope to understand The graveyard you abandoned so long ago.
katy-laurel
Written by
katy-laurel
American
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 5:26 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem