Drinking Under the Moon

"Poetry and hums aren't things which you get, they're things which get you. All you can do is go where they can find you" – A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh


Love, you said, is ignorant of time.

But all I see before me is an endless plane.

 A purgatory fitting of my crime.

In which my figure is but a stain.

Those eyes, and lips and paper skin.

Each so accurate at charting pain

That only comes when you’ve let me in.

My knight not by a dragon slain

But by an abyss of fragile time.

there is not enough to hold you here,

Instead we await its knell-like chime

Our veins contaiged by despondent fear.


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