Too late!
by crowspark
Posted: 13 May 2018 Word Count: 149 |
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the clattering train wound
on between iced hills
blue and green bottles
by the wall
down dark cuttings
across a white foamed river
just a hop skip and crawl
for shaky fingers
smooth as silk
neck slips and lips
part to catch
last drips
last gasp
Her drink like
pale blood
tears beaded
his cheek
a song for my lover
don't tell my mother
she couldn't stand
a drinker.
Original poems:
She dashed her drink in his face
the clattering train wound
on between iced hills
down dark cuttings
across a white foamed river
Her drink like
pale blood
tears beaded
his cheek
and:
blue and green bottles
by the wall
just a hop skip and crawl
for shaky fingers
smooth as silk
neck slips and lips
part to catch
last drips
last gasp
a song for my lover
don't tell my mother
she couldn't stand
a drinker.
on between iced hills
blue and green bottles
by the wall
down dark cuttings
across a white foamed river
just a hop skip and crawl
for shaky fingers
smooth as silk
neck slips and lips
part to catch
last drips
last gasp
Her drink like
pale blood
tears beaded
his cheek
a song for my lover
don't tell my mother
she couldn't stand
a drinker.
Original poems:
She dashed her drink in his face
the clattering train wound
on between iced hills
down dark cuttings
across a white foamed river
Her drink like
pale blood
tears beaded
his cheek
and:
blue and green bottles
by the wall
just a hop skip and crawl
for shaky fingers
smooth as silk
neck slips and lips
part to catch
last drips
last gasp
a song for my lover
don't tell my mother
she couldn't stand
a drinker.
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