My Beauty is a shell....
Decorated n empty..
smiles dropped
from lips.........
silence where words used to be...
dashes of color..
fill the voids..
Longing hangs heavy in the air...
n perfume of roses
waves in freshly curled hair..
Your voice disembodied
whispers in my ear..
n its love i hear
tempered n the fires of fear....
n i am a statue...
cold marble in the dawn...
n i do not come to life under
the caress of your fingertips..
Or the pout of your warm lips...
but remain stoic
in shells of what was..
n breath deep of
things that may be..........
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem