Free Poetry Contest
Free Love Poems \
an arm hangs delicately out the window, a cigarette
beguiles trailing up into second story
he rounds the bend, smiling on
the sight of her little hand protruding
from the flat.
for nine seconds
this is, what coming home
to her would be like.
like two pieces that fled
there is no other, to need to want
more. it is
no one will get the full picture
they have deviated from the box,
the table is visible beneath
the shape of two bodies that go together
the passive murmur of quiet discontent
forlorn and breathing over
nine hundred, ninety eight
i miss you is being thought again as if
in the interest of the wonderous
a kept imperfection of undying flawed sweetness.
i will be yours, and if never,
then i shall never be yours
Moderator / Royalty
"For most of history, Anonymous was a woman." - Virginia Woolf
© By duchess On 2/9/2006 5:56:07 PM
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