
Tree bark for skin. We are jungle trees of sin.
Addicted to evil, and solitary spaces.
Momentary stars. Medieval places.
Silhouettes against tangerine skies.
Cigarette breath. Nicotine lies.
Dressed to depress. Everybody cries.
Internet death. Tambourine eyes.
Man in mask.
Lady in black.
Lies and facts.
Lie in cracks.
Back to back.
The lion reacts.
Face to face.
We both collapse.
Soft piano.
Quiet crackles from the fireplace dying across the room.
Shadows making love on the walls.
Lost deposits, broken furniture,
alcohol and unknown narcotics.
Two bodies in the bed.
Sheets stained.
Hearts weak.
Love made.
Oh, so sweet.
About the Creator
Kale Sinclair
Author | Poet | Husband | Dog Dad | Nerd | Zen Practitioner
Find my published poetry, and short story books here!
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.