Untitled 12-15 Poem by Harry Irene
Untitled 12-15
You took to my face. There's an evil in love,
But it beckons my yearning ten pound heart.
With the sea and the sky sewn to my eyes,
You'll swathe and swaddle this rose to her teeth.
The wooden horse the rocked you
Splits like a wedge; makes clouds of the bed.
These red rust eyes locked you
From these shivering isles.
The small death subsides,
And he's gone.
Friday, June 17, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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7/19/2025 5:52:16 AM # 1.0.0
