wordless lust
breath smells of old musk
sickening,
black and burrowing
burning through a hole
that used to be a heart.
fragments
segmenting
into scrapbooks
with
blank pages
black edges
memories like
pieces of dust.
Here a few words speak volumnes.
As Katy indicated, the last four
lines are fabulous. Love it.
A terrific poem , excellent writing,
a splendid talent at work.
Thank You,
-----Eagle Cruagh
"I do not think there is a woman in whom the roots of passion shoot deeper than in me. The two elements of passion are rapture and melancholy. It seems to me, I am that incarnate."
Free-flow writin.. more..
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