Tuesday, July 17, 2012

sonnet one hundred ninety four

we fish mirrored hopes from
the stream that pass that
bend visions, the water that
seeps unto river beds,

holding the tears that
came between, the laughter
that managed somehow
to escape the silence running,

the last of lasts languishing
leaping memories of you and
i, my lost captive and

undeniable chain, a restless
fumbling within minutes and
void filled only by you.

No comments:

Post a Comment