Doesn't poetry save lives?

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Her, his and their's: a 3 by 5 tryptich on words ~

Words slip off his tongue 
like waterfalls off crevasses.
She revels in their grandeur -
until the monsoons come 
and she is washed away. 

***

Her words are like silk on skin,
seeking catchments in his heart.
But how could she ever know,
he was the maestro, and
his heart - a trap. 

***

Their words, like rolling in bed entwined, 
seeking destinies in love,
when the only truth was -
the turn of a perfect phrase;
everything else a beautous sham.

***

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