Three Alliterations
The prickling, poignant, pitter-pattered
poetry of your parting lips pulls me apart
before I can pry my perception away.
Is it possible you pretend? Playing perfect
while pouring the potent poison of potential
passions into my drink. Is this a portent of pain
or a premonition of paradise?
— — —
Sunlight seeps through the sea’s soaking stillness.
Sand searches solemn and slow, slithering through
Cracks in your sinewy hands. Your eyes see mine.
I shiver in the depths of your stare. Inside your sight
Lies a stagnating soul, secret and stolid, scolded too
Many times for seeking to steal the key.
— — —
Every evening you arrive early. Your entrance
Enunciating my errors, your enfeebling exclamations
exhausting me. I eye for an escape only to find
Emptiness. I envy the eagle flying elegantly in the
Evening sky.
Read more from G. Blake Harrison-Lane
~ And Poetry After Dark
