Posted in Gracie's Glimmer, Poetry From A Woman Who Thinks Too Much

one last fight

 

every single strand
of my being
strains toward you
you are the magnet
i’m the metal
it’s  nothing that i choose.
your words whisper to me
come mere baby
in the dark of the night
our first kiss lingers
only to be haunted by
our last kiss, one last fight.

Love to hear from you...

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s