intertwine like a vine used for wine.
I was reading from pages as old as a scroll
In between your line and mine, innuendo
Made me promise to never tell a single soul
My skin was soaked with ghost sweats like rain
The Devil's stain was on my hand and wrist
Was bent to reach you at certain angles
Your Mona face looked just like the angels
When stories reach a denouement and twist
Where lovers meet at a jolnt explain
Something to me;
No please, not that
Anythlng but,
Reading on we wrote about what we cannot know
In between your line and mine, innuendo
Last night your light was left on in my window . . .
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 338 times
Editors' choice
Written on 2022-06-26 at 21:53
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In U Window
Last night a light was left on in your windowI was reading from pages as old as a scroll
In between your line and mine, innuendo
Made me promise to never tell a single soul
My skin was soaked with ghost sweats like rain
The Devil's stain was on my hand and wrist
Was bent to reach you at certain angles
Your Mona face looked just like the angels
When stories reach a denouement and twist
Where lovers meet at a jolnt explain
Something to me;
No please, not that
Anythlng but,
Reading on we wrote about what we cannot know
In between your line and mine, innuendo
Last night your light was left on in my window . . .
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 338 times
Editors' choiceWritten on 2022-06-26 at 21:53
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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Editorial Team |
