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Open Poetry #41
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Tomer
Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168
Michigan

0 posted 2007-12-30 09:15 PM




Its always a different dance,
A different flask
that bears its name across the
wooden etched skin of the bars front path.

Where the air bathes in black,
The alleys of shadows,
Scathing each corner
With the prints of
Their words kneeling to
The moons light,
Just as I did to see her reaction.

Her theater of smiles
Are as sins that slay
The postures of truth,
Like the caveat of wool
Shredded from the curtain
That separates our distant thoughts.

I am but a nail,
That sits their with my
Head sharp, but my figure
As thin as the lingers
That come from her vacant stare.

Its my words to take,
Your skin to shape,

For my eyes to trust once.


© Copyright 2007 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved
TomMark
Member Elite
since 2007-07-27
Posts 2133
LA,CA
1 posted 2007-12-31 07:43 PM


powerful words. always good poems!

have a very wonderful New year, Tomer!

Tomer
Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168
Michigan
2 posted 2008-01-01 04:14 PM


Thanks Tom, you do the same.

Tomer

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