Hitomebore
Liquid life
dripping from
my fingertips.
I'm dehydrated
a dead leaf
slowly falling.
The sound of
winter stealing
warmth
is deafening.
Here, your lips
should meet mine
and a fairy-tale kiss
would grant me life.
Our first two seconds
my sudden love
ripping my thoughts
as you walk on by.
Poetry by True Words Embellished
Read 2352 times
Written on 2005-11-11 at 17:39
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