Into the distance, the way that we do,
But not the same distance, the me and the you;
Eyelashes flicking me into the blue.
After too long we forget the way home.
Worms in the woodwork and rain on the stones –
Erosion from kisses that sink to the bone.
Living forever and not growing old?
When bitterness comes there’s no hand to unhold.
Turning to west and I’m grinning with cold.
Suck on the wound and sleep in the spell
Until every blue eye is sleeping as well.
That kiss was the last, but how could I tell?
Fossilised fingers stroking the sun;
The you and the me, so glad that we’re young,
We don’t give a damn for the flings that we flung.
Author notes
entered for catogory 2. Love
A contest entry
- Too many options pick one: adding more points by Krick.
550 points, ended April 18, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Get Gold This Time For Your Rhyme by ambergriss.
400 points, ended April 22, 19 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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sigh...sigh...sigh. This just leaves me sighing. Thank you for your entry. Nice job. sigh
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nice
doo doo doooooo do do dooo doooo
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