By Andrew Flaherty
Below the orange glow of your smile
And a surface of promises
Made by hand and mind and heart
Black words rally
Attach themselves again but
Forget to talk, to sign the language
Forget to marry, to unify the mind
With the beating of another heart.
And ammunition lingers
In the cartridge of your gun,
Words wait for triggers
In the nib of my pen
Both fire shots
That tear the
Soul’s corridor ~
Red blood
Black bullets
And ink ~
Dried
Dead.
No comments:
Post a Comment