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My Complexion, Rare
by   Wrigley

My ears, naked with impatience,
find the inches between our
words, extravagant-

My heart, swollen with
an intolerable hush,
reinvents anticipation-

The abandonment drains
the skin of the sun-

The sky drinks 
nocturnal merlot-

I am absurd, you are

My pulse displayed
My complexion, rare-

Then your voice, again.

Poem ID: 27163   Poem Posted: 2/9/2000
Viewed: 12990  Voted On: 145  E-mailed: 28  Commented On: 1
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Copyright , 01/11/00,  all rights reserved by the author.
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