When cold falls from the wings of
night
We shiver & squirm, like the devil is
nigh!
O' so heat-less are the countless stars!
All shining & all gleaming through the lasting night
Yet, no heat or warmth for he who sleeps in ice!
We sleep as one, sometimes as two
But in nights such as this--
half filled with my infidelity
She dreams, o' so lucidly!
Of the knives, & her favourite lines!
She's a poet.
A wordless poet!
She rhymes with silence & the butcher's knife
And her favourite lines,
Are deep cuts you'll bear for life!
©lighthouse
L