"writing poetry, starts in my soul, flows through my heart, up to my head, then it's out of my hands"
Friday, 28 September 2012
Fragile
-Fragile-
Delicate fingers tap upon the bleeding keys,
the splash of sticky reminiscence,
fingerprints upon the heart,
slivers of diaphanous shards,
pressed down into the bloodied maw of time...
Gossamer chords, tremulously faint,
a haunting mist of memory,
the melancholia kissed,
upon the salty lobes of all that you were to me...
The fragile moments;
Faint echoes in shattered crystal light,
footsteps in the distance,
the remnants of this sallow sun,
fading into night.
© Richard Michael Parker 2012
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