July 15, 2008
By Tim Gavan, South Setauket, NY

With pleading eyes you reach at me
A corpse without a face
Dying landscapes we have touched
New life without a trace

A thousand leeches on these wounds
Still infections hard to kill
Clinging to the blood of saints
Who’ve given up their will

So pretty in that long black dress
Too dark for stains to peek
A struggle for the gun we share
But both of us are weak

I’ll take your hand to feel its warmth
Letting go before we’re one
In hoping that a freezing heat
Will sustain me like the sun

A bullet formed of all our dust
Will sever our embrace
And the wind that chilled you where we stood
Will erase our empty space

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This article has 1 comment.

emilyy said...
on Nov. 12 2008 at 4:43 am
this one is my second favourite.

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