deepundergroundpoetry.com
amor e morte
the dead
won't come back home.
Our bedroom is quiet now
the jingling keys still echo behind you
doors, once wide open
now try to seal what's left inside.
This aftermath
long long overdue
our tab on love, closed tonight
and every other night
after the one thousand and one we shared
the eclipse has ended
and finally released the light.
Walls stand empty now
longing for memories' caresses
warm whispers of sated breaths
scintillate auras of silhouettes
trapped in ecstasy
have long dispersed and faded...
the dead
won't come back this time.
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