You came as a baleful sun,
burning a hole though my clouded soul.
I was the never careful son, overturning
the trolls ruling my celestial poles.
We became two scoops of melted twilight
dripping through the cracks of a waffle
cone. You and your darkness renamed
the hour of midnight, while I slipped on
the ax of a novel clone.
About the Creator
Kale Sinclair
Author | Poet | Husband | Dog Dad | Nerd | Zen Practitioner
Find my published poetry, and short story books here!
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Our Song
Evening has given way to night. Gently, I settle next to you on the comfortable, old love seat and reach for your hand. You snatch it away, again. It cuts me to the quick, but I hide the pain, understanding that the reaction is but part of your demented state. Since the accident, your presence here in our cozy home has been clouded by a haze I can't see. Nevertheless, I feel the frigidity of your expressions and it serves as an excruciating reminder of the immeasurable distance between us.
By Dana Crandella day ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
So fascinating
wow, it's amazing.. my friend