Absolutely Miles Away …too many clouds, too little time…

hush

can’t speak today
in words
stolen from perspiring
beaded skin under
sallow glow, injecting
no
healthy tan, no worn parade
this cavalcade of biology
now simply throws through
a prose flow
indelibly scored on the backs of hands
fingers aloft
pointing to constellations
conurbations of sky where
soon the waning fires
may rekindle from flinted spark.

keep your wick burning for me
keep you, just how you’ll be.

shhh…

Beautiful.

Beautifully incoherent. I love the word ‘conurbations’… must go look it up so that I can use it some time. You are the wordmeister.

Words can be overrated, prose flows too, when the absence of them produces poetry this memorable.

gorgeously .. well … erotic.. yes, really …*deep sigh*

Andophiroxia: thank you.

Bohémienne: thank you too. although conurbations is more geographical than anything else. sort of central business district-alike. hmm.

Mr. Witness: All things go, even memories. (thank you as well)

Shell: um….thank you!