My definitions are different.
No kisses on moonlit bridges, please and thank you.
I'd rather a swim.
A run.
Your eyes flashing through the leaves.
My feet pounding over the grass.
The ground and the dark and the sweat.
We can pretend we're in some deep grove and ignore the traffic
circling our hamlett like sharks.
Let's be something new and dark and pagan.
It's a shame, my love, that it's not quite an image I can paint you in.
YOU ARE READING
Approaching Zero
PoetryLove poems that are creepy because sometimes love is scary and bad for you.
