Romantic Thieves


A chilly wind forcing the lips into blue silence,
Dry and fatigued revived by the moist tongue,
I think those lips and maybe the tongue, too,
Were meant to be stolen for the first time,
And then later, mine to borrow hers’,
And hers’ to borrow mine,
But only to realise that it did not last,
Only to realise that what was left behind
Was the whispers of hers’ and mine,
Feeding memories into our hearts,
Memories meant to tour the body,
Guided by each pulsating beat,
A melody that started by the thief
Who stole those lips and maybe the tongue, too.
Friday, 24thof April 2015
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s