Tyler Wilcox


'La Petit Mort'


La petit mort
I die each night
Is nothing compared
To your struggle

The scent
Of your
Rose-blossom breath
Is intoxicating.

Morning comes strong
With radiant heat.
It could have just as easily
Been thrown from your eyes.

Submitted: Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, August 14, 2013

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