By Rachelle David
Bright
Endless
But not bliss
Watching the glow
Touching so slightly, kiss
I lean, extending far to blow
My gut aches along the restraint, too low
These lights have burned for too long, I must make this
right
Air pours out of my lips but why so slow?
Flames are still there; they will not go
Something must be amiss
Comes a soft doe
I puff this
Yes! Bliss!
Night
No comments:
Post a Comment