Death's Sad Melody
Stretched across a desert
Of white pillowed night
I cloak myself in blankets
Of shrill quiet.
Each inch of bed pleads for your return,
In the hint of the moon's bright light,
Where I savor only the memory of your touch
As my eyes search the darkness for your smile.
Cynthia
Copyright © Cynthia Alvez | Year Posted 2012
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