Solitude confines me
upon rusted springs
where a mattress lays bare threads
once laced in passion.
Aroma's aftershave
faintly familiar,
stains the pillow
encased in memories, never fading.
Quilted sweats
sweetly arousing in energy's lust
now cold shivers
no warmth, no love.











Such a sad piece sis! Beautifully penned tho as always! Your muse never lets you down. Excellent emotions, all the best in the contest 


35 old applause
