Edge of a Whisper
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How kind of you to open up my veins,
With little but his name upon your lips ...
Eviscerate the warmth of what remains,
The grief of beauty strangled in your grips.
No more fallacious kisses will we share,
No longer curious, your stayed replies,
No mystery, your mess of tousled hair,
Or yet, the moony fervor in your eyes.
But one thing, yet, will tantalize me so -
A question that bewilders, you'll agree,
Is why, with all the time you've had to go,
You make him wait, to linger here with me?
So, plunge the blade and consecrate your crime ...
But do it slow, and love me ... one ... last ... time.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Beautiful Sadness" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2018
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