Wednesday, August 3, 2011

I'm a fool to want you

You are not happy to see me
your face pale
countenance ghostly
is looming

I have been here before
at least lately tolerated

With your body burnt
to cinder
our playground exists
only in my dreams

In casual reverie I steal
those cinders and
put them on my mantle

covetous of your charred
hair and your ashen
sibilant lips
I'm a fool to want you

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