Monday, February 6, 2012

paradoxique

the depraved morning sun

lashes out against the
simple black

starscape. the frost licks my cheek
and i can't have you;

not while pained red new rays
of the day

whip at my face. how i've dreamt
of sharing my ocean bed with
your hips

i want to bring you
to the bottom of the sea

so you never have to fear

pain again
i'm too late.

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