Purple's Platitudes

nothing but words …

between scars

14 April 2014

 

 

under moonlit porcelain,

each in turn chants,

swears

of love felt deeply,

briefly …

 

Gaudy promises

drip, like blood

from wounded wrists,

like sonnets,

tumbled  on papers

we never miss …

 

hunger,

that iron-taste,

in limbo,

between scars

and wounds that never heal.

 

inspired by The Sunday Whirl poetry prompt: Wordle # 156 http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/

 

 

 

14 April, 2014 - Posted by | Poetry | ,

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