A pristine sight for sullied eyes

 Think two fold on thrice shorn dreams
lost first time to bitter hopes
of lives lived on green winged backs
with the hollow comforts of home
but a tumble away

snipped back again by shallow thoughts
of flitted passion sought by hearts
convened around absent flames
cast down a final time
to work in tandem to the others shame
a ships prow to the rivers run
we swore and cut
whore and cunt
wore and slit
at the rushing flow of tenderness

until every soured word
that ever formed in the pits of festering hurts
poured out in the raging rush
and sluiced away shared dreams
born in the twilight hours
of youthful summer nights
when we first sipped the nectar
of our hearts bane

and fancied for ourselves a simple dream
to love
to have
and to hold
forever and ever
and then again

but from the gaping breach
between chaliced grips
the wraith fought free of rueful hands