Tuesday, October 22, 2013

the poem died in words

He carried her fragrances 
lingering inside his glances 
a secret, almost an affair 
desire, she uncovered layer by layer.

Few gaps in the blinds had let in sunrays 
he thought of that dawn often for days 
when resting on an elbow, she'd leaned towards 
to smile, cry and say that the poem died in words.

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