Get Your Premium Membership

I Am Nothing, Leaning towards a Thing

﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Sometimes the Winter does not the Summer make.﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Sometimes the Winter is only take and take And Take.﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Much like﷯﷯ ﷯﷯My Quiet kissing dead slept Kat.﷯﷯ ﷯﷯{Yes}  His Looks﷯﷯ ﷯﷯{As well} had a voice, ﷯﷯ ﷯﷯once…﷯﷯ ﷯﷯{ Ice melting in Cranberry, Lime and Juice. }﷯﷯ ﷯﷯But much like﷯﷯ ﷯﷯The shade cries, to Love the Sun, ﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Oh, diocese of tension﷯﷯ ﷯﷯I’m down to my Skin at last.﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Please… Please﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Rock me to sleep, the weather’s wrong,﷯﷯ ﷯﷯I’ve nothing left to give to you﷯﷯ ﷯﷯But Nails and Teeth,﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Tongue and Eyes﷯﷯ ﷯﷯And still He continues,﷯﷯ ﷯﷯All bounce and sway, along﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Till Crouching, Crunching, softest tender-est Noise.﷯﷯ ﷯﷯The Midnight of Me descends….﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Setting much quicker than he might of Enjoyed.﷯﷯ ﷯﷯My Dear, Twittered Dove,﷯﷯ ﷯﷯This Will { is }﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Goodnight﷯﷯ ﷯﷯And Die.﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Voice of My Shoulder…﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Voice of long Past Sins.﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Was it Dust that I was Kissing?﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Dreamed and Instant, Ghost of Voices lost and fire?﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Do all Beginnings start without Shade?﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Tell me… Answer, sweet and Quick…﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Close region of kissing final Dust…﷯﷯ ﷯﷯…﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Just what was your Wish…﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Other than Sand, burning,﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Beneath my Eyelids.﷯﷯ ﷯﷯…﷯﷯ ﷯﷯-Cut.-﷯﷯ ﷯﷯This Scene﷯﷯ ﷯﷯Is End.﷯﷯ ﷯﷯﷯﷯﷯﷯-thend-﷯﷯ ﷯﷯﷯﷯﷯﷯﷯﷯﷯﷯﷯﷯﷯﷯

Copyright © | Year Posted 2008




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.