rusted love…

rusted love

night
kissed
by moist
bay lips
lingering
aftertaste
of passion
in an empty bed
smoke
from a single
cigarette
rises
a burnt offering
to venus
no
thoughts
of tomorrow
all dreams
set sail
like peter pan
through
the open window
as harbor fog
blankets
naked promises
forgotten
with morning’s
first light

11 thoughts on “rusted love…

  1. love that you include peter pan here…not nice when all the dreams escape through the open window…though maybe it was worth it still..just because of the moment..

  2. Interesting title, I wish love didn’t rust but in some cases it happens I suppose. For me, childhood loves always have a piece of your heart, family and friends share a piece, and the one you spent your life with, another. I do not think love dies, people tend to neglect it or throw it away.

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