The smell of sulphur, cracked lips
narrow hips and winding tail
If thou be'st a devil I cannot kiss thee
Kiss thee? I cant stand you,
Let alone kiss you,
again.
Your cresent smile
Brings to mind a time
When i'd smile too
you collect your shrivelled dress
from our, my, barren bunker.
I tap scratched walls
and look away.
Its cold now.
No more sulphur.
No more nestling feet, late nights
body heat.
No more quick glances, slow dances
quirky notes and orange peels.
No more, no less.













Comments
I might try out your suggestion though and write a piece based on the final stanza, actually, yes, i will! Thanks!
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The difference between me and a madman is that I am not mad.
But, oh, I just love the second and third stanzas! You have no idea. I've thought of this kind of topic a lot, but I've never attempted because I didn't think I could capture that feeling, like you did here. Like the formality, the quasi-regret, the awkwardness... I fell in love with that middle stanza.
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I'm no expert, so take the above with a grain of salt.
~writeaway*PoetryPlease*The-Literati~The-Last-Stanza
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The difference between me and a madman is that I am not mad.
--
The difference between me and a madman is that I am not mad.
The middle-english style is interesting,but like you said,you did it because you like it,not because it works!
Wheres the self-convincing?
Maybe im just too dense to pick it up...
And the last line?
Why did you write "no less"?
"No more quick glances, slow dances
quirky notes and orange peels.
No more, no less. "
Of course theres going to be less of that lovey dovey stuff,theyre broken up arent they?
--
Those who say something is impossible should not interrupt the person doing it
--
The difference between me and a madman is that I am not mad.
--
Those who say something is impossible should not interrupt the person doing it
--
The difference between me and a madman is that I am not mad.
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