Cuzzy-Bros.

When him and me
Were three
We
Sat on the couch
Sucking iceblocks
On the day before new years eve.

The television
Flashed white cricketers
Slashing at a crimson ball
On mute.

His lips turned blue
When mine were green
And the summer trickled in
Through the open window.

Now we sit
In the depths of winter
No iceblocks
No sun
Almost twenty one
Still him and me
On the couch
Together.

Reviews

[man Atek]

Still him and me

hm ... very very romantism
gether gethering together always.

nice poems !