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Image for the poem Framed

Framed

we'll be richer for it
indifferent to the black
black of demon rage
nights revolving the door
got it jammed tight
caught fast
never had it
like this
fast racing,
that's me and my pulse you feel
along my neck line
pumps out I love you's
rivers red flowing underneath
through to your touch
to my hem line
grasping
wanting
wanton
wilting into you
I'll die long before we get with the picture
but that wont stop my pulse racing
with thoughts of you
framed with me.
Written by Lookawaynow (Rose)
Published
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