Bleh with Barry

Random with a cynical twist of lime.

Love

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Love

A clash of Promethean heat,
War of ancient time is fought
Between these woolen sheets.

Drops of sweet
Sweat, something unable to be taught
Until we two meet.

Cool hands, warm feet,
Bodies twisted, sin stained lot,
Compounded in a secret place, lies discreet.

But now the sleet
Has come and chills what’s sought,
And we don’t meet.

No more saccharinely sweet
Moments of being caught
Unaware of our conceit.

We held our time in sheets;
In each firefly we caught,
But the years are fleet.
Eternity is where we shall meet.

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Written by barryr22

February 13, 2010 at 12:45 am

Posted in Poetry

Tagged with , , , , , , , ,

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