Frying Pan Dreamers
We lie like two fat sausages
glistening in our wrap of blankets.
I hold you in a frame of light
against the shadows, and you hold me -
safe from all sweet terrors
of the lord of dreams.
A twist of salt flavours us,
sizzles white the sheets,
like a bed of purification.
And when the pan is too hot,
who will jump first into the fire?
glistening in our wrap of blankets.
I hold you in a frame of light
against the shadows, and you hold me -
safe from all sweet terrors
of the lord of dreams.
A twist of salt flavours us,
sizzles white the sheets,
like a bed of purification.
And when the pan is too hot,
who will jump first into the fire?
posted by burning moon at 12:54 PM
2 Comments:
Hi Moon- Very nice poem. Enjoyed reading it, specially the last two lines.
cheers mate. thanks for that
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