Sunday, March 9, 2014

Broadside

Cheapskate, the clock reigns,

soon the dial of the shell cracks,

every kiss, whispers in the dark cry blank

traipse around the event horizon,

spinning at half the speed of light,

and music strains,

against the diamond pin-pricks on black velvet

but the rain doesn't bother us,

it's you and me in the end,

taken in by the fog,

eternally...






No comments:

Post a Comment