Tuesday, July 05, 2005

Molotov cocktail

  Her eyes serenade
as she inch forward
  Heart beats ebb
to eternal still
  mere presence
to tarnished self
  a glistening floss
she leans
  across my temples
to whisper
  those words
that makes men frail
  in her utterance
i dissolute
  from flesh to ashes
where i stood
  she still stands

  murmuring

"Amore..amore..per sempre.."

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

That's a good poem. I disagree with word choices in some places but you write lovely! :)

Blue Athena said...

"she leans
across my temples
to whisper
those words
that makes men frail"

The imagery is delicate, as is the feel of the entire poem. :)