Nothing

Dovestoneboy

I could remember the myriad of stars

sequined on the black canvas,

and sleep will not come to me yet.

My thoughts are the broken-winged bird

awaiting the breeze of uplifting sleep

the open window , the sun fallen to other skies

somewhere there is chaos and pain

and flowers unseen, untouched by life

but here, and now , there is this

your arm outstretched across my chest

my fingertips traversing the landscape of your skin

between us time has ended,beyond this there is nothing 

  • Author: Dovestoneboy (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 15th, 2019 18:04
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 16
  • Users favorite of this poem: sylviasearcher
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Comments +

Comments2

  • SerenWise

    Beautifully written, I love the creative use of metaphor

    • Dovestoneboy

      Thank you for your feedback.

    • sylviasearcher

      Favourite read in a while.
      Beautiful imagery.
      A haunting transience



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