Deprivation

on October 7, 2014 in EvanescentMoon

Deprivation

by MYRYN VILLAFLOR

[they slither, and they hiss
like talking serpents , as they pass
through those discarded streets]

his head’s a sanctuary of sounds,
where he would hear his father 
sing him to sleep

[they drift, and they hover
like cigarette smoke would
inside that shady space]

his heart’s an ocean, and 
women are like waves; reflecting, 
and refracting along the shoreline of his life

[if only I could stop the sky
from raining,

the sky,
from raining]

then, no night would be too long, 
but, well, he’s drunk and stoned 
and he’s traveling solo

[will someone sadder, 
please, tell him,
please]

his skin’s a collage of 
despondency; a patchwork of 
a midday muse.




Copyright (C) 2013 by EvanescentMoon. 
12.10.13

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