Friday, 11 March 2011

Untitled

We crash onto the ground
And all is silent, save, the rustling of leaves--
The disquietude in my heart,
And all is sweet, save, the taste of tobacco
Mingling with the cooling air,
And all is calm, save, the teeming of pestilent thoughts;
Of your salacious smile
And all is bright, save, the rapid-darkening night
as our lips lock...

Then I awake.


~ Florence Challender

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