Destiny rolls over and lights a cigarette
Lips purse, inhale
Hold
and Breathe
the slow, soft buzzing of a thursday afternoon
echoes gently through the chamber of this moment
A thin sheen of sweat
As if bathed in celluloid
Gold
and Keeps me safe.
where once i was tumbling through the currents of emotion
now i feel and know and touch each second as it passes
Sheets crumpled, the remnants
Of a night's embraces
Cold
and Now know no shadow
turning back to me and gazing deep with those glassy blues
i need no further invitation and exhale twice, deeply
His fingers, tenatively seeking mine
Almost touching tip to tip
Old
and Yet I die again
About
The Whispers of Memory is the name of the two-man poetry collective comprising Gary Rhodes and Calvin Brooke. Part daily journal, part cathartic self-expression, the pair seek to chronicle their lives using the written word, from the fantastic to the mundane.
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