More in Love Never Dies Of Natural Causes
Poetry
Pulse
you would have me, if you could;
to fill the skeletal hours
ticking haggardly by
in your bare-bones clock
you would have me, if you could; to paint bright colors on aging plaster walls long neglected and sparse of sweet sentimentalities
you would have me, if you could; to dance upon the floor, silencing the echoes of manic midnight monologues and somber sunrise soliloquies
you would have me, if you could; to lift the shade , let moonlight skim the vintage flesh and the night breeze rustle idle sheets, cooling the inferno that burns beneath
you would have me, if you could; flow from those black ink veins into eager fingertips and rewrite the pages of jaded journals
you would have me, if you could; but you cannot, for blood and breath do not pulse from within the pen
C. Alana L.2007
you would have me, if you could; to paint bright colors on aging plaster walls long neglected and sparse of sweet sentimentalities
you would have me, if you could; to dance upon the floor, silencing the echoes of manic midnight monologues and somber sunrise soliloquies
you would have me, if you could; to lift the shade , let moonlight skim the vintage flesh and the night breeze rustle idle sheets, cooling the inferno that burns beneath
you would have me, if you could; flow from those black ink veins into eager fingertips and rewrite the pages of jaded journals
you would have me, if you could; but you cannot, for blood and breath do not pulse from within the pen
C. Alana L.2007
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