Torrents of shallow adumbrations,
try to take flight,
lacing my mental referrences.
Reminding me of softly spoken lullabies
now collecting dust
except for the glistening of skin
against the droll velvet of trampled passions.
Always followed by that ever present
putrid silence; like gold left to rust.
Leaving behind the blemish of you.







9 old applause
