your love is a bottomless void.
i look at it from the precipice.
nothing to push me in.
or to pull me back.
there i stand.and contemplate.
its a pretty ravine.with blossoms.
which winter will pluck sooner
than later.
on the other side
tottering dangerously close to the
edge
is a red rose.
the red rose.
the history of this..this love?
i watch it fall in.
petal by purpling petal.
and i make my way back.
saving myself
for other chasms life is lived in.
No comments:
Post a Comment