The stale tangerine tea,
Cold,
Colder still perhaps,
Then my lover would wish to admit.
The biscuts,
Parched
Dry,
She dosen't even have the heart.
Like a wickedly twisted scene,
From Alice,
The faded colors of the walls,
Add a sort of compound darkness.
Her face hasn't brighted,
Swept by crimson tears,
Words,
There have been none.
I pour another cup of tea,
Staring into those pale corpus eyes,
Not twinkling,
Never winking.
Her heart may never be mine,
But her body is,
So please,
Come...Have tea with me...
Author notes
I wonder if you can geuss what I truly was going for.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Great write..love the images growing so very vividly as I read this...
Absolutely excellent.
Looks like you are having tea with the corpse of the person rather than the actual girl who refused to give you her heart...
Just my interpretation....
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Holy Moly!!
Powerful piece You have penned my son and Wow!
What images
Congratulations on Your HM
I did not know You had entered this contest till it closed or I would have come by sooner~
Oy
I was off and on for a few days~
Magnificent piece!!
Loved it!!
Many blessings to You
Best wishes too
and much love~ Desire~*~
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