Loss
In a small green tent I reached for midnight
Above our stoned embrace my lies
Emptied in an indifferent trickle of desire
We giggled, fingering each other’s faces
The strange familiar- absurdity
In the doef-doef music and the scale of my fish-nets
Two teenage screw-ups, a clichéd poem already forming
On lips bruised with vampire kisses
With which I stroked your smile, coaxing truths on which to feed
Copyright © Robyn-Jade Hosking | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment