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Literature Text
adam,your fingers have left marksand remnants ofstar dust and ashesetched on the curvesof my hip bonesI worry,I fear,how you will come to discoverI am the hissingslithering serpentin your garden of eden.
Literature
Mizpah
The crying wind
brings a
deluge:
lost
and blurred at
the edges,
you
become
a
whisper.
Literature
Empty Words
One text--
seen
but not answered--
says more
about a relationship
than
a thousand
empty words.
Literature
semantics
I find you
sitting in your wicker chair,
spitting out jeopardy answers
religiously
as if this sunday didn't
give in to the semantics
of your prayers
like you want it to --
you sing hymns of nicotine-hiccups,
sighing with its comfort
because sleeping-syrup
isn't enough to keep you numb.
I have a hunch your
depression-slouches
would call for profanities
(god damn you to hell
is your favorite)
that's how I know you.
when the effects
wear off on your yellow fingers
I know you think of me,
hoping remnants of your breath
lingers.
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Comments4
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This is AMAZING. It has been a long time since a poem has able to capture my attention like this one. Thank you for that.