love is life people

by Shane Leah

Late, dark, still, night
She would creep, with chipped claw
And stolen key
Through the white, chrome numbered door
And in, waking me from my slumber
With the click of the receiver
Near the head of my bed,
Where the silvery moon shone down
Upon the naked flesh that would have had her
Here and now in another, but not then.
She begged, with ruined sex for the return
Of the love she held so dear in her life
And in death forgot her grave.
Clairvoyance forsake her
Because the demands she made no god can grant
I guess life, as in death, is like that
It takes no prisoners
And still I make the call in secret
Like her
Begging the same…

Patience, dear boy, they tell me
Shame, I shall.
But don’t count on it…
…Life is short.

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~ This piece was posted on Wednesday, November 19th, 2008 and was filed under Poetry, Writing. You can make comments on it below. ~