A Venom of a different strength In breaths of different strengths, Light as I felt when she smiled, Heavy as she smiled at another, Knowing each time, who it was. The cycle rolls over, and over. I inhale every time. The stench was of love, That rotted like a bright picked apple The one apple which felt special Not knowing how many lay beside it Not in a crate for memories But a casket to elsewhere. I have loved blossoms, Each one of them, Buds that bloom, And please many. There she was, stumped by the other That other, a connoisseur of nectar There she sat, full in bloom Waiting, glistening, oozing, Perfusing her aura with glee with a secret wish to wilt. Whole patches like that one, Luring everyone that passes, Taken only by an imagined perfection. Whole patches have wilted, And I, have watched. There she was, Almost bearing fruit Her fragrance was once touching There was solace in her feel The solace turned th
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Showing posts from September, 2013