Those nights when a drug-induced
Coma flooded us with madness,
And we ran through the streets
With our asses hanging out and
Our tongues darting from mouth
To mouth, from bottle to bottle
Not giving a flying fuck,
As you all lagged behind like
Comforting shadows, watching us
As our plumages ruffled and the
Smokescreen drifted over our
Tired moonlit eyes.
Pulling off those heels and that
Skirt fumbled off in the darkness
As you carefully guided our bodies
Into bed and lay curled at the back
Of us; our breathing in sync
And our hearts united, not touching
Or in love, but filled with a warm
Sense of something pure,
Like diamonds amidst the rubble.
YOU ARE READING
Black Coffee
Poetry"Normality is an illusion. What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly"- Anon. In life we tenderly bloom, slowly shrivel and then die like flowers. This small collection of poetry reveals human emotion from a number of different perspectives...
