Wednesday, November 17, 2010

and in the grand tradition
there was but one defect
yr husband keeping company with british derelict

she called herself the captain
a voyage we endured
but every solemn whisper was as she assured
to hide and be discovered
in such a time of need
is such a pain that when recalled provides a worthy plead

for holding such a temper
so well and so without
can leave a burn on memory, so bad and without doubt.

hide in broken corners, sleep in unmarked graves,
tell tall tales of oceans; imaginary waves

No comments:

Post a Comment