- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Yours
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It was mine.
This beat
was the rhythm
to my song.
This tired heart,
its unsteady flutter
in these splintered ribs,
it was mine.
Then, you,
with familiar ease,
filled it,
stained it
to your shade.
All that was mine
became yours.
So much of you spilled in,
stirred and settled me,
until so much of me
forgot what it was like
to be mine.
- COMMENTS
Bn2fover 1 year agoI know everyone here is happy with the continued publishing of poems.
I am.
But it doesn't delight me seeing this particular dump rob some delightful pieces, as this one,
their rightful time period in the sun before falling off and being replaced.
Still, well done.
