Tuesday, April 1, 2014

untitled

Pick one song, to soothe the emotions,
The aimless cursor tracing the screen,
Was that a jab, without much consideration,
Was that a victory, was that a win?
Dust surfaced the sticky cover,
Leaving traces of typing hands,
But yet words are lost, undiscovered,
Where none could comprehend.
It was a warm gentle glow,
But ends with a dry whither,
This jolt as cold as fading snow,
There’s nothing there to linger.
I am letting you see, this, I could not hold,
Nor one to possess while the other suffer,
For I was wrong and I wasn’t bold,
And I do not want you beg to defer.
For now I wish these memories to deny,
I would rub these traces with a second hand,
For I don’t want tears to fall, nor blushes to shy,
Nor blemished sea glass in the sand.

Sorbet Lemon

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