Captive Lunacy
The lady lifts
Her languid hand
And sets the moon adrift.
She does not care
For patterns,
Just a swift
Fleeting nocturne
Swirling in the shuttered air.
Her touch a mere caress,
a finger’s breath of time,
a lush swirl of spare
Feelings used to lift
A dismal crescent to new heights
Of slightly stilted madness
Through a softly pulsing rhyme.
3 comments
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April 11, 2013 at 5:21 am
crazygoangirl
So atmospheric! I totally saw myself in the lady by the way π
April 11, 2013 at 7:50 am
Seasweetie
Me too, crazygoangirl. I think we should be friends. π
April 11, 2013 at 11:50 am
crazygoangirl
I think we’re on our way! π