Oh love, are you coming?
There sits frost
upon these window panes.
It's been too long,
it's been far too long, now.
I've been changing,
been changing all along
& in silence you noticed -
all input buried far
far beneath your eyes.
I grin at my own,
my own reflection
deep at the bottom
of this bottle.
The vodka's gone
to my head, oh lover,
it's gone straight to my head.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed