225 days under grass
and you know more than I.
they have long taken your blood,
you are a dry stick in a basket.
is this how it works?
in this room
the hours of love
still make shadows.when you left
you took almost
everything.
I kneel in the nights
before tigers
that will not let me be.what you were
will not happen again.
the tigers have found me
and I do not care.- Bukowski
YOU ARE READING
L O V E - Poetry of the Greats
PoetryA collection of great love poetry, chosen in no particular order or reason except that it spoke to me. I hope it speaks to you too. *Disclaimer: these works are not my own.*