Us
by Bobo
Posted: Monday, November 24, 2003 Word Count: 36 |
Your words,
though softly spoken,
are barbed with absent love.
Your caresses,
always tender,
resound with empty gesture -
no feeling,
no passion,
without heart.
It is you,
you say,
not me
that is to blame.
though softly spoken,
are barbed with absent love.
Your caresses,
always tender,
resound with empty gesture -
no feeling,
no passion,
without heart.
It is you,
you say,
not me
that is to blame.