Possessing a quiet, secret love
muffled by silence of sleep.
Eyes darkened, eclipsed golden suns.
Simple warmth in which to crawl
curled fetal, enveloped by twin orbits.
Still desiring his touch
held underwater in slippery hands.
And his easy words they melted her
so few and far between.
Into a drowning, milky puddle
of hopefullness and a scant few tears.
Perhaps the beginning was their curse.
Salvation lied (she hoped) in their soft love.
Yet, no Savior did he prove to be
That starlit sky was not her heav'n,
and shared breath is weakening.
So in the blossoming morning dawn,
swollen lips should breathe their last.
Until the next, the next, and next
Where the warmth becomes sole comfort
Crafty blanketed tortures, blinked back
Just to breathe together (together)
In and out, weakened by each lisping gasp
While the slowness creeps cold and still.
1 week ago