SleuthA Poem by fawnavalentine
At once, they ask, how do you do?
Oh, how I beg for you to Disarm Disregard It's sweeter to view And not to know What we have been to They ask, "Oh, you, what did you do?" And please, lest fall our knives I think of it, like dripping and the truth - Twists my stomach like the flu But this, it must be you. This paced night is young As you were, once, too Yet it has none to retire to Not presence, shape or youth "No one" I'd say, "but you," Do you see, from where I come, We drew with colors We spoke with tongues And who dare steal a picture so pure? From a child like that, so dumb, and so young? "No one" I'd say, "but you," He, who says, "Do them! As done to you!" And this, just this, it must be you. The youngest nights still tease me well, I'd dig or claw at it, until I thought I'd strike at your head In that brief time - My eyes hanging up for you - In that brief time - Spoke no words not of dull disguises, But to say, "Do them! As done to you!" © 2011 fawnavalentineReviews
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10 Reviews Added on January 24, 2011 Last Updated on January 24, 2011 Author
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