Languidly,
water pools beneath finger tips
cooling, rippling
anticipating movements in
fluidity.
Meniscus broken and seeping
hydrophilic cling – final embrace to the individual
groves of her print.
Marble cool, cadaverous eyes glaze
at the pristine artex grooves above,
breathless blued lips,
slightly parted departed exhale.
The girl from Dublin,
who kissed her old mam goodbye
by the warmth of the old Rayburn.
Last night – what a night.
This really chills me through and through.
I can see it is powerful
I can see it is well written
but I’m afraid I need explanatory notes.
Suicide?
Oh I felt cold reading this.
Well written? Yes.
Sad? Oh yes.
Love & magical kisses (hopefully bringing you back to life) *winks*
~Tinkerbell
{{{shivers}}}