retreat.

this whispered touch
middle finger caress
splits open -borders
a wounded heart
to bleed love
and flow your way

dreamt you held
these broken bones
crushed dream -hoarder
i offered you
my orange creamsicle
spiked with fear

perched atop
you slink below
covered silk -corridor
i whisk away…
you needed more
rain to pour

chasing me into trouble
under the gun -again
and now i will never be free

Poetry

2 Comments Leave a comment

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: