Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

Dissertation(Re-creation)

Poetry By: zer0
Other


A blind stab in the dark at surrealism.


Submitted:Sep 14, 2009    Reads: 61    Comments: 2    Likes: 1   


The disseminating seeds of a dying, dark tree
Birds that choke and end on these
I hold you close to my dead heart
Where once a theatre could impart
And kiss you hard, our tongues entwine
If love was hate, you would be mine
Now move inside my deathly death
And fuck me while I breathe your breath
Our souls congeal and soon arrest
(We don't have souls, I must contest)
Resign my own fair name for yours:
We are one and we are none
Coldly.




1

| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.