Poem

 


your
eyes

videos of  murder
without passion

love is:
  
like a fly resting on
   the lip of a wine glass
      sitting on the table overnight

the shattered pieces
  of moon beams cutting
         barefeet walking thru
           a cold and dark room

shadows thrown
   against the wall
     aching for dawn

and memories
 running downstairs
  excited for Christmas
morning