Sunday, April 17, 2011

Strangers from L.A.

Whispers and sweet nothings

soothe her dry lips

as he leans close to deliver

broken promises of tomorrow.

Nothing matters now.

The wine is gone,

his blue shirt is on the floor

next to their bodies.

In the dark their colors

fade to one their bodies,

a mélange of radiance.

Age and distance cannot

separate such a passion.

When strangers become

lovers and nothing more

as life’s gifts are here now

and will catch a flight out

tomorrow morning.

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