Dear Neighbor,
Stranger:
My lips on your
Rubbing thumb and
My heart within
Beating drums,
Is all I need.
When in
Subzero temperatures and
Below the
Cherry blossoms,
I choose to believe
You and your
Strawberry lemon lips
Are my sole comfort.
Kiss me;
The world
Is falling
Under
Deceit and
A lack of
Strawberry lemon lips,
Roseate like
My fingers in a lonely
Midwinter night.
-
Reminisce of "Coffin for an Angel."
YOU ARE READING
Neighbor
PoetryAnd you'll never feel The touch of primrose, or the breathing of trees By your back. You'll never feel; For you never knew To try, Dear Neighbor.
