Poetry

The Lipstick Obliterate

Lips kissing lips,

Embrace and intertwine
Sepa-ha-rately fingertips.
Each face was like a canvas, to place a piece of art,
And softly as it pressed, it worked into the heart,
Believing for a minute: moments, tender and sublime,
Wasted time.
Fracturing a godsend, artist, lover; this miscarriage of justice is a note.
Untrue ripple spread in perfect circled lines, to bail the water from the boat.
Crying: save the souls of sinners, never terse when saying worse.
Drive body to the brink of death, drive shotgun in the hearse.
Time dreaming time,
When whiskey turns to brandy,
When brandy turns to wine.
Celebrate the constitution, enabling this woe,
Cut to little pieces; reality — all a show.
Casting and characters, reels and lines.
Fishing for compliments, pulling up mines.
Desolate in the room, dark and dismal, where love long ago lost.
Clarifying emotion, adrift in the ocean and bitter as frost.
Burning the truth to protect the core;
Wasted time, as before.
Begging to stay, on the walk to the door.
Advertisements
Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s