love

passive like birth
unsure like knives
inched like mountains
growled like mirrors
hurt like roads
galloped like weather
treasured like sleep
irreversible like dreams.

this little time,
bled quicker than dew.
it bled as if, we always knew.



Poetry by ben
Read 738 times
Written on 2008-03-14 at 18:10

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Neelima
this little time,
bled quicker than dew.


Beautiful. I love these lines. I like the use of words, quite precise and very apt, for someone so young, you are a true artist.
2008-03-26