Poems from redmasscarade
Love:
Who is this man?
He hovers, he stares, he gets too close
He touches, he smiles.
His nearness is discomfort,
Nearly agonizing...
Love:
Who is this man?
He hovers, he stares, he gets too close
He touches, he smiles.
His nearness is discomfort,
Nearly agonizing...
One question
Floating freely
Through thoughts scrambled, tousled, archived
Like the thud against the wall
Nearly silent.
But always...
Sweet, musky scentthat rises the stripedstairs into my nostrilsand opens my eyesto see a blurred, blue silkysmooth crashing, clutchfrom...
The hollow persists in the space you've wrapped aroundBut the inner circle containsEmptiness, loneliness, painLike the drip, drip, dripThe...