Sunrise

Clouds plated together

Like the cracks in an oil painting

Oozing the delicate drips of moonlight

Seeping into a grey abyss

Turning, suspended, like ink

In a glass of still water.

 

Frost caught between the cracks

In our chaste lips

Wisps of smoke clinging like cold

To our rumpled jackets

A cigarette between two brittle fingers

Slurred sunrise songs

On lips and laughing tongues

Loud, dangerous

Immortal souls

 

Reviews

[MsJewel]

You have created some wonderful images in this creative and well written poem. I enjoyed reading it very much.

:) Julie