Thursday, December 9, 2010


It waits tonight
Undercurrents of stray passions
Mingling into shadows of the night
While we weave in and out
Treading crumbling boundaries
On tiptoe. Tiptoe.

She made giggles and words appear on cue,
I swear I still think about you
With eyes wide open
And a heart quite small.

But it’s a little curious isn’t it
Your enforced silence
Sound asleep in corners of a dream
A touch here, his breath sparse
And he slowly hates it,
Dead love and a few wine bottles.

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