Wandering girl,
You begged me to tell your story,
Because you said you could just tell by the look in my eye,
that I loved you..
Could do justice to-all of your regrets…
So,
everything exceptional
about you
I wrote down in black and blue sentences
inside my weathered journal.
You said you liked the way
I lay you down,
Then turned around and
tried to lift you up,
off paper…
Some kind of, snake charming, flute
Player, you said.
Hypnotising,
Something exotic
With your craft
I liked that…
And then, sometimes
When you wanted to
You danced for me, too
Like you did with all those other conquests
That didn’t last…
You would never do that to me, would you, Beautiful? You asked.
My eyes were always on you, while you
Gave away those old stories with your
Body Sway
We stayed locked in the trance, though
Making childsplay
Of something deadly…
You and me
Always caught
Split seconds between song
And silence…
Maybe, a Cobra’s strike
I should have known better…
These days
The music and my pen lie motionless,
There isn’t much room at the bottom of the page, anyway.
So, I’m left with an incomplete story…
Besides that,
I never did ask you your name
And, you never gave it-Beautiful.
~D.E
spilledlight.com 