Etching Goodbye In the Mist
Forgotten flesh behind cold walls,
pressing nose to steamed glass--
With weightless memories,
your ache hides within a dream
like whispers on a scream.
--playing moon games.
a black widow wraps
flies around sound.
The empty silence roared like fire,
standing in the shadows of surrender...
she etched goodbye in the mist.
Copyright © Red Barchettadrive | Year Posted 2015
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