Memories Poem by Andrea Vescovo
Memories
I remember her sweet yet sticky scent.
During the darkest round of the night-clock,
my swollen eyes become a forecast,
foreshadowing damp, watery young hours.
I could as well be sitting on a stool
on which 'vae victis' is finely engraved,
like I wickedly did by many nights,
letting the wholesome love matter turn null.
Sunday, January 18, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: nostalgia
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4/25/2024 5:47:51 AM # 1.0.0.1119
