J’adore Mon Tess

March 21, 2008
By
He whispers the name,
But can barely whisper
Breathing his decelerating breaths

Tess, Tess, Tess

Black hair, ebony almost.
Swishing lightly as she runs
Valley echoing

Tess, Tess, Tess

Closing his eyes
Dreaming away.
Tears are caught in
His net of eyelashes.

Tess, Tess

Inhaling deeply
At the top of the hill
She catches a tear in her hair
Hearing

Tess, Tess



His breaths are shorter.
Death wishes enter
His mind.
All he can say is bring me

Tess.

She knows the whispers
Are fading

Tess.



J’adore Mon Te-





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