Wednesday, 20 July 2011

One Little Memory

The vague orange light sways
In an indescribable breeze,
The leftover crumbs of air
Passed through my window
By the trees.

Through this cool stream lies
The scent of sweet salt, just
Like the rich drops of
Sweat racing off  red-hot
Flesh and lust.

In the back of my mind plays
A tired old scene from my
Hopeless young dreams,
And the sensations haunt
Where I lie.

Held in the moment everything
Is insignificant, unaware of
It's purpose to be, oh little
Does it know it's my last
Hold on love.

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