-a crevice
in the covers where
the ghost of
all lovers still lie,
a room
echoing with their desperation to be free,
or to live
once more
With the night comes the spirit of the gone,
the long
gone and never to return
& the
memory of the syntax
that wholly
kisses you,
the stain of
lips corroding the skin
-from [Leitmotif]
No comments:
Post a Comment