The Crime of Love
A short poem for "From Across the Room" Challenge
By Ryan SmithPublished 2 years ago • 1 min read
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Photo by Elliott Blair on Unsplash
I’d been in love before, the scars to prove it.
She found fresh flesh, thrilling my blood.
I ran into the electric night. It was cold
and a man told a dream from the night before.
Patted myself for wounds where her words
or her charms could poison my blood.
Your heart is your home, a fool once told me
yet I guarded it, a cage gilded with rust
not gold. Decay and not decadence.
A pauper’s heart, yearning to be King.
Angel. Siren. Tempest.
Goddess. Idol. Harbour.
A chaos of words spilling out
better into the gutter than her ears.
The crime of love, an ungodly sentence.
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About the Creator
Ryan Smith
I'm a good dad, a decent writer, and a terrible singer.
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