intertwine like a vine used for wine.


In U Window

Last night a light was left on in your window
I was reading from pages as old as a scroll
In between your line and mine, innuendo
Made me promise to never tell a single soul

My skin was soaked with ghost sweats like rain
The Devil's stain was on my hand and wrist
Was bent to reach you at certain angles
Your Mona face looked just like the angels
When stories reach a denouement and twist
Where lovers meet at a jolnt explain

Something to me;
No please, not that
Anythlng but,

Reading on we wrote about what we cannot know
In between your line and mine, innuendo
Last night your light was left on in my window . . .




Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2022-06-26 at 21:53

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2022-07-04