Purple's Platitudes

nothing but words …

between scars

14 April 2014



under moonlit porcelain,

each in turn chants,


of love felt deeply,

briefly …


Gaudy promises

drip, like blood

from wounded wrists,

like sonnets,

tumbled  on papers

we never miss …



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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