High noon stand off
weapons holstered, eyes
lock softly on target. Voices
buried under broken stone,
tremble like trigger fingers,
words lost in a maelstrom of silence.
Toe to toe, storm erupts, armies
rampage, a flurry of arms and gale
force disarray. Salt soaked tears moisten
blood red lips, a passion fully connected.
Sands settle, tempest subsides.
Eyes mirror a solitary thought.
No comments:
Post a Comment