beauty, love, men, poetry, women

lost in a house of hours

Exhausted seconds

Spilling from my fingers

Into a thick bed of minutes

In a house built from hours

I wander these rooms

A purposeful ghost

Alive to make

My mark on these walls

Crumbling as they are

I hear you

From another room,

But this house brings

The scent of you to me

And it is the bedroom where

We find one another

And our kisses

Stop time


And thought

Like a child’s dream 

Of lightning

And we don’t waste

A single




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