Stare

These are the days
that the fade craves
spinning graves
from spent exhales
as we re-inhale
all the pith we gave
to a false phase
a compost composite
of loves catatonic charade.

Catch me babe
in your rising
dismantled sigh
still you'll rewind
the wind of my cry,

all the glazed infernos
blaze like a line
spent from lies
ride my grimey crime
as I chew your soul
through my eyes.

Copyright ©2017 and 2018
WhisperingQuill.All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted
in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods,
without the prior written consent
of the author or publisher.
All my poetry is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), WhisperingQuill.