Tattered curtains dance
in the twilight wind
of memory
like ghosts on the
grave of your breath
this half-heart rhythm
falters in torpid assonance
skips
a
beat
where unwhispered hopes
linger on
in moldering attics,
tucked away in
chapping dresser drawers,
and stuffed behind rafters
we shall evanesce
in oceans of longing
2 comments:
Nice
Thanks
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