On the edge of the dream I stand
Counting the pulse of night in my palm
Planting my name in the wind
Hoping it will return in bloom
Roads pass without a trace
Except for the echo of my step
The moon shatters in water
I gather its fragments
To shape a new dawn
O heart, do not fear
Time is a wave
And we are the sail of patience
We move on even when clouds grow heavy
I write a promise to tomorrow
And hide it beneath the light
If the journey grows long
Hope will be our guide
And the soul a home that never fades
About the Creator
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Killing him slowly
There’s an intruder in my house again. He stumbles through the door, wet carrier bags in hand. He’s bought me offerings. I show my appreciation, letting him caress my beautiful body. He wants to touch me. I rub myself against his legs. He sighs, dropping the bags. He can’t resist touching me. Running his hand slowly down my spine, I arch my back towards his caress, let out a low purr. It’s what we both need.
By N J Delmasabout 18 hours ago in Horror
Comments (2)
Love is light
Love the poem.