CelticLion-The Pornographer's Hyena Dies In a Loveless Lair « Poetry «
Found in Fields of Grass
A woman is haunted by memories of her lover.
And I forget I can't remain
searching fields for faraway hills
where your berry stained mouth
on ghostly grass
slid down night's sun
behind day's back.
No love was killed
spare hours died
my covered skin
in coloured lies
you left before truth made you buy
another man's lost wife.
