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Wile Away

I'll wonder awhile
watching your reflective eyes
catching sweetly in our
fractured mirror views
do you see me?
my vain soul believes it
but my logic is a mere
drop in your hat trick words

inspired...always
like those forever words
decided for us that
those burned rooms
and haunted halls
would whisper promises
we could never keep

and still I wonder
don’t we
on some infernal plane
keep those promises
and come back in quiet
hooded masks
to disguise not from
one another
but from those
that would steal our
pelts for warmth
and our lush capes
for their own status quo

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
A very inspired work...Thank you Steven
Editing stage: 

Comments

qou

like halos
glimmer at the door

like shoreline journey
at the shore

not from each other

never

"burned rooms and haunted halls would whisper promises we could never keep"
did we want too................

portions rations when we are so hungry
ran back so far in there

and yet Im still right here

yes I see you! I love how polished these works are
Im very impressed thought I had forgotten..
again..NEVER

once bitten
Twice Smitten

then the sudden question, it has such an impact, becomes so meaningful.
I love this poem for its clarity and for the mist that encircles it at the same time, the contrast, a chance for interpretation and at the same time like a statement. Iam looking forward to reading more in the next days.
your
Proprietress

moody moons drive me here
from subdural drone dreams.

want of

read a poem
like being in the ruin
again

the sun slaking the darkness
with its taste
honeysunshine

reality laid haste

Christmas snows
gentle murmur through
the lamps black standard
vigil

another year come away
..

I can't think of a damned thing that could be done to improve this poem. It's grasp of human relation and nature drips redly to the white tile floor. Exemplary work.

Ron

BlueDemon77

Blue Demon77

"What I want is to be what I was before the knife,
before the brooch pin, before the salve, fixed me in this parenthesis:
Horses fluent in the wind. A place, a time gone out of mind."

The Eye Mote-Sylvia Plath

cant deny it..
Im wounded again
and come here
your words rolling
through my spirit today

Thank You for this poem....

A lovely write so full of food that feeds the soul, of thoughts that are shared:- on some infernal plane-- did you mean Plain ??? as in open spaces of land??
Loved the piece to pieces, Yours Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

still enjoy this read......
thank youy\!

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