Between the sheets of a strangers company.
A strange property.
Each frame a different shade
Each blush a different stature
That head rest knows every name,
Sanded out by the next capture.
The bleached sheets were almost, comforting.
Until the passion is hung on display.
These sheets are putrid.
That blush shameful.
That smile was deafening.
Bleached again,
my smile is suffocating.
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(Tattoo: Curt Montgomery)
YOU ARE READING
Moments In Time
PoesíaSometimes the moments are only in my head but they feel so real. When you finally write them down maybe they could be real, that does not mean you can hide the evil ideas either. Follow those moments with me.
