Too much has already been said
Backstory
pretty words dressed in quantum frillschange nothing with their soft quills
Futility ferments acrid air
erodes what most want to hold
and leaves your heart afire -
your lips with a taste of dour,
papery pale as a silvery moon
No kiss this night to quench desire, or
kill the rising tide thoughts of you inspire
A lukewarm breeze, encircles all of me -
I close my eyes, and practice make believe
you touch me, and I will myself to breathe
It is late enough -
the moon is now, a fast-setting sun
Understand, what you have done -
you have made me, come undone.
:lqp
3/4/12, Billow










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