Tags
a light on the porch, all I really know, almost always, and still, beyond the dark, breath, close enough to touch, closer now to heaven than the stars, do you remember, love
roses are sweet
though I can never tell
the point where
essence is lost
table top manners
and looking glass gold
frail as these fingers
to hold
repent me
no longer –
were nothing but skin
succumb to your waiting
again
mystic translation
of who I became –
bartering breath
for sorrow
fate of the faithless
to bow
long stilled
the passion
of summers made sweet –
whispers forgotten
another someday –
muttering madness
secrets to lies
will takes the hunger
away
. . .
tornadoday 