Le milleur de la passe à dire:

“Il est trop tôt”, puis “Il est trop tard.”

Monday, August 31, 2009

Deep, or so I thought...


Like a riptide
You pull me from all sides.
Where should I go?
Or resist your every move?
Let me drown under your force
Crumble to my toes.
Break every bone inside
Toss me around
Until you get bored.
And then recede
Like waves on a sea shore.
Me within your depths
Your latest conquest.
Fading purple hues;
You're jaded.
Beneath your darkened contours
You're smudged.


Rip me apart,
I'll come crashing on your shallow ocean floor.

1 comment:

Kunal said...

This one's FANTASTIC!
I love it! I really do.