A Cold Hand Like That Of A CorpseA Poem by Edmond Dantes
A Cold Hand Like That Of A Corpse
Cold hand, when clutched Lay limp Rugged remorselessness, Braced together with the Liveliness of mine Not even a shudder, a twinkling That spoke to me of blood flowing through these veins The disdain that I feel for you just now, Like holding hands with a corpse- Which might be warmer still Than this death-clasp which I take part in, A glimpse of your thoughts; most likely: Don't touch my hand, Your hand repulses mine I give it to you though, Dead as you are to me- Feel as I turn the temperature to amphibious-like degrees Fine, let go as I take solace in knowing The last time your good hands touch mine As they used to crawl every inch of me...when pleasure spoke Letting go...puzzled, I knew Only a hand from a heartless intent could feel so icy. © 2014 Edmond DantesReviews
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4 Reviews Added on June 4, 2008 Last Updated on August 6, 2014 Author
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