- Erotic Poetry
- On the Death of Love
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The sweat slowly oozed from her chin
and fell on her breast, clinging
but for a moment, and rolled slowly
towards her nipple, iridescent in the moonlight behind her....
It was hot, too hot for the rips in the curtains to release
windows open, dusty and sultry
the moon was bright
brighter than this night in her life...
His touch still resonated throughout her skin, yet
he would not be coming home any more.
The image of him was a mist in the mirror,
seething in reality, she reached for where he once laid.
Her eyes swelled with tears
her heart for answers....
Faint to look at the clock on the wall, she couldn't stop.
In 12 minutes he would die....
Trembling hands reached for the cigarettes on the table
she got up. Her white robe naturally split in the middle
exposing her heart to the moon above that didn't care.
The clock ticking on the wall filled the quiet silence that haunted her.
