letting

bleed into me
your bitterest best;

wrists held fast,
coquettish behest.

there is time like a river:

flowing hard; then,
at rest.

truth pools
to dip in,

veins without end.

Advertisements

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 )

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s