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Open Poetry #47
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Tomer
Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168
Michigan

0 posted 2011-11-28 05:37 AM



They held hands
until the side of life gave way
to a certain smirk that became fluid wine

Pouring onto her shoulders
as if his hands held a tiny clover
With her eyes onto the silver night
His eyes towards her small, gentle breasts

He held her unlike a man
that could see the future
but held it to the present

Those kind eyes
warm until spring came to life
For he was hers
Holding the street ledge onto their faces
as they watched the tide roll their way.

© Copyright 2011 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved
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