Love Wince

Touch me when the moon turns over 

I’ll choke my pillow with my desire instead 

My fingertips burns and scolders 

Cold porcelain cups warm the morn

A silence waiting to be said

Strangers sharing the divided bed

The frosty glow of your computer 

Steals you away with other suitors

I’m next to you yet miles away 

Lost out to sea in my own emotion 

I will return from foreign lands

And oceans 

But will you recognise me?

Set your walls down and be?


Recoiled affections, tortured sensory depravation. 

Falling on numbness that denies

My love for you 

A desolate landscape 

Nothing grows here anymore 

Fingerprints left on your door

1 Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s