I got a glimpse of
what could have been
Only to learn
What could not
The duality of hope and fate
In your strange eyes
And confusion planted
In insanely familiar patterns
How I love them!
How I hate them!
Why did I meet you?
Is this some kind of
Wicked game
To test my heart?
Under palm tree shadows
A shadow fell on my palms
And sudden desire
Arose.
There is a rose to be broken
But I prefer my palms being bloody
To my hands holding yours.
YOU ARE READING
SKIES (poetry)
PoetryA short but growing collection of my poems. I write for myself, to deal with my environment, to capture my thoughts, to tell and retell stories I live or dream. There is no specific genre of poetry I will commit to, there will be reflections on the...
