And so she laid beside me
Her breath chasing the wall afar
The bed wide
Her waist just beyond
My stretching fingers
Aloof
Her affection
Had been withdrawn
Ushering in a fog of silence
We were both alone
Torn by frustrations
But welded
To the fold
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A/N:
It's like someone spilled icicles in the middle of the bed, I hate it, but such is life sometimes - luckily the sun always rises.
Did you like it? Could you relate? Time for one more?
Cheers,
-DarthPadre
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Maximum Exposure
PoetryThis is a continuation of 'Exposed'. There is no theme per se, just poems i have written over the years. If you see something you like please vote, comment and share. If you think you see one of those one in a hundred poems, shoot me a note, i'm...
