Friday, January 11, 2013

Making a Fetish Out of My Solitude


Dull is the evening
Filled with sounds of passing cars
The moist feeling
Of raindrops on the skin
Void beats from the heart

Memory lingered from eves before
Of the night I last saw her
Announcing her presence by fingertips
For it is time to call it a night,
But not without the taste of my mouth

This is what loneliness should feel
Always just a second past from her kiss
Not flooded by empty sounds, nor the creeping rain on my skin
Always just a moment away...
From the ghost of her touch



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