Lies overlap every space
a conscience lacks.
The motives of--"give me mine,
I need it all"--a lover too present
to keep in the past.
Though affection is kept there
when lips scrape with words, not kisses
and breaths are colder than hands:
Your grip is tight;
please, set us free.
A contest entry
- 50-55 words by creationsfromheart.
475 points, ended March 20, 2008, 15 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
a wonderful entry good luck!
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