Silence is
treachery in its own right;
again I fumble in the dark,
yearning for the scent and touch of you.
Without you, my lips are sewn shut;
instead of trusting, I lock down:
there is nothing more I can give
honestly, if you are not here to take it.
My gut wrenches at the thought of my
everlasting love for you.
Author notes
November 7th, 09
12:32am
A contest entry
- poems tell stories by Virgoan.
1200 points, ended November 11, 20 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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A succinct piece. The voice is clear and loud in its brevity. Definitely a finalist.
This is really a good poem.
Thanks for sharing.



