with a sweet salty hiss--
collaborating our unwieldy tryst -
a place where lovers meet
to wetten their lips.
But this place--it was not divine,
even though so sublime--
so surely it would end with time.
The clock beats softly
enter-ing with its chime.
And it did - that tryst,
sigh away with its bliss--
melt astray in that moment divine,
lost -
in the ticking of time.
0 comments:
Post a Comment