PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Ah he had burgandy lips, right? With his rippling chest and black hair... I stooped to bow in his honor. What I knew was too much to ignore, and when I tried it attracted me closer and closer. He knew my name. I knew his. We were both reluctant, but willing. It was like a dream; a dream without a plot. I was the sea, and he was the ship. We fit together like a puzzle, but then he was gone. Once in a while I hear his voice calling. With every breath I chant his name. My tears mirrored and image; His reflection and mine mixed in a puddle of wine.