that know the secrets of my spine
vertebrae that weep away the night
the memory of words written
fade,murky shadow of lost things,
vanish into the sublime stratosphere.
ink that wrote upon my parchment
rusted feelings corroded by the turning
crisp petal that eternally curls within the page,
a love poem that the sky breathed,
still reflected in my pulse
the piercing needle point azure of my eyes
submerged in the depths of fragrant wood,umber
light luster of parted passion
to know like once known.
I dream this frosty enchantment,
the chilled trail of those two icicles.
I still let in to haunt me, hollow me.
All for you,my dearest.
We shall meet again,
dancing on the moonlight,
dunked in the stratosphere.
As you can see, with this poem, I ended up using more than one picture to go along with what I wrote. I wanted to choose only one so as to let the words speak for themselves but I fell in love with the imagery and the words together. What are your thoughts?
Thank you for reading and giving me your opinions and comments.
” Me and the pen, we are one. If its ink would cease to flow, my ink would cease to flow.”