He stole my colors
with his touch.
Washed them
into black and white.
His breath
drained them out of me;
with ecstasy.
He left no room
For red
or blue
Or other hues.
As his fingers
possessed me.
He thrust
the deepest shades
into oblivion;
as I gasped
and moaned
beneath his lust.
Or was it love?
He burned me.
Down to ash
and swirled
the little left
of dark and light
into a flawless shade of gray.
In a list
A contest entry
- Contest: The Beauty of Gray by LionessK.
850 points, ended July 31, 21 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
I absolutely love your last stanza. At first, with the first stanza I thought this was a sad write but I see now what you meant.
An excellent and interesting write.
Thank you for entering my contest.
Best of luck to you.
~Kristy
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