Friday, February 05, 2016

Desire, a poem


Once, I desired life,
as a lover desires.
Once we were beautiful
together; we wore the morning

as our due, the colored,
clouds of sunrise, tumbled
as our own unmade bed.
We all run out of time

and soon I shall sleep,
as sunset fades to darkness.
Sleep, holding life in my arms
as desire also fades.

Stephen Brooke ©2016

As most of my stuff here, first-drafty. And, as most of my stuff, no more 'personal' than something that might be said in one of my stories.

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