Love
he spat the word
as though the taste on
his velvety tongue
were foul to him. And
did he know that my heart
shredded my soul as that
single syllable ricocheted
as surely as a wayward bullet
and peirced me where it
will not heal?
Love
he spat the word
as though the taste on
his velvety tongue
were foul to him. And
did he know that my heart
shredded my soul as that
single syllable ricocheted
as surely as a wayward bullet
and peirced me where it
will not heal?