The touch of that mouth to this skin
like the sound of a last desperate gasp for air
horror filled and swollen with intention
Those careful hands on this careless frame
the aging flesh on a face once lovely
Sad
So impossibly full with longing
You are a blissful fall my darling
A rigorous search with no reward
you're my candid confession without forgiveness
the poisoned fruit
a requirement of faith when I have none to offer.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment