A Pantoum: Love Letter Ghost
For I am the ghost of your love letters.
When your fingers trace my design,
I feel your lips widen in affection,
I feel your kiss, dear undine.
When your fingers trace my design,
the ink stains paint you a picture.
I feel your kiss, dear undine,
my love would stay to linger.
The ink stains paint you a picture,
of rosy dawn and vibrant night.
My love would stay to linger
as long as you hold this letter tight.
Of rosy dawn and vibrant night,
with poison staining the lines between.
As long as you hold this letter tight
you would never see the sins within.
With poison staining the lines between,
a single line was torn without.
You would never see the sins within,
you would never love a poet devout.
A single line was torn without,
the fair maiden smiles unknowingly.
You would never love a poet devout,
so he wrote this poem unwillingly.
The fair maiden smiles unknowingly.
He writes with tears of blood and ink.
At last dusk he thought to himself,
would the message ever make you think?
He writes with tears of blood and ink,
he carves on walls with words to a lover.
Would the message ever make you think?
For I am the ghost of your love letters.
YOU ARE READING
Through Tinted Lenses
Poetry"The writings of a convoluted iconoclast are stored within. Will you understand him?" Musingly yours, Staccato Beats
