a place where dreams die
and these words are carved out, bright
tiny stars, starved
for attention
the critic's head
not tempered by the dying
consciousness, yet
not tethered to the brutal detail
of your dreams
floating
vapor trails
icing lashes
of your eyes
crushing this hope
with luscious isolation.
You know, I'll never know
your love
of disconnect.
Goodnight.
Very cool! Love the lines "brutal detail of your dreams floating vapor trails..." Tiny stars, starved for attention..." Where do lines like that come from? Shere Poetry, my dear!
ReplyDelete"A place where dreams die".... I think I have been there. Or maybe I still am.
ReplyDeleteI'd like to tell someone that s/he's the place where dreams die. And icing lashes - lurvely imagery.
ReplyDelete~k