The Witching Hour
Death,
you're freed;
With one taste
define nightlife;
Now I will take you,
drip for me as I taste
and then erase your anguish;
Give yourself to the Witching hour;
Strawberries decadent in moonlight,
it was not the apple that Eve wanted.
Copyright © Melani Udaeta | Year Posted 2024
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