#duldrums
I pour the wine, while you raise your cup
until our bodies have had enough,
that our spirit’s twist, wrung out dry,
sexed and sated; shyly truth seeps outside
of careless vessels, free once more -
unable to collide, despite this ardor.
Our thoughts clashed clandestine,
while our demeanors docile.
Your scowl, the bone beneath a smile
our rose skin kisses, turning hostile.
The quaff of a tongue, the taunting touch.
Skin chenille, beneath blankets blush.
Suddenly sensitive to the sounds of dawn,
a trash truck groans, someone mows a lawn.
Last nights dream bent around a now that’s gone.
Time has stopped, but it still goes on and on.
I’m up, you’re naked;
Every morning maunders, over-medicated.
Every house a story, every window, perspective
my window is dark, theirs, a beverage,
to fill a voyeurs empty cup with scornful slake,
set to brew when strangers wake;
having gone to bed not knowing each other,
in the morning, woken as broken lovers.
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 12:43 PM UTC
crumbly leaves
tell a tale of woe
their misspent youth
a mere haze of glory
here they lay
yesterday’s cast offs
whose current claim to fame
is crunchy carpeting for wildlife
while their mama’s branches long for baby buds
still swelling deep within
they remain
forgotten
forlorn
forsaken
to almost all
except the rustle of the winter winds.
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 9:45 PM UTC