H.H.

The pathos peels here:
creeks of the hearts door.
A red hinge opens fear;
In the hallway we adore

Into this home we'd move,
only mere months ago.
Our fate and efforts prove,
we unlock what we sow.

Lesser lovers were dissuaded
by the ghouls we entertained.
But these kids were persuaded
by rooms where ardor reigned.

Two hearts on two sleeves
pump in an eternal embrace.
Cuddling in the night's freeze;
smiles flicker on a dim-lit face.

Crosses over every door that's framed,
just in case Revelation's true.
Sin soars softly, from our lips untamed,
as if each moment bid ado.

No ghost hunter nor a psychic acclaimed
could purge our sprites from us, dear.
Our souls swing softly - love's retained.
As the heart grows, so to does fear.

I'm not leaving this electric estate.
No agent could tempt my greed.
No paycheck buys away our fate,
your eyes, your sighs or creed.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

really like the metaphor of the ghosts...dealing with love...money can't buy the spirit of love...

but yes, the more love grows, the more we fear losing it...we get greedy for the feelings, but in our greed sometimes we get disappointed...

j.