kerosene evenings ignite

kerosene evenings ignite
I hold you
in the arms of tepid skies
serendipity this side
of pale dying

grant not the agreement
a breath and perhaps a glimpse
of what may come to pass
is no arm of forgiving

bereaved engulfed
atoned
the rise of inhaled walls
in selfish silence
is the time you are
nothing else




Poetry by Bob
Read 544 times
Written on 2016-01-30 at 17:24

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