literature

Nov. 14 - when ships sailed

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Literature Text

We called our love art,
Once,
When all we did was
Trace poetry into the skins
Of each other
Trading secrets deep into the night
Till the sunlight kissed us asleep
And we fell,
Rapt,
In the arms of the other.

Those days are long gone.

I recall the wild symmetry of
Your eyes meeting mine:
Creative friction that resulted in
Too much wine
And pain
And fights
And I remembered writing
Once,
That love was drama

Only our ending wasn’t.
It died the way most things do:
Alone.
.
© 2014 - 2024 rebel-brat
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