Cradled Acoustics.She longed to run her fingers,Cradled Acoustics. by blood-red-ribbons
Along the old acoustic,
Cradled in his too long bones,
That twitched in time to the
Delicate harmonies, and notes,
That twisted around her head.
The way his fingertips
Plucked at the coils of metal,
Inter weaved into his subconscious,
Mystified and intrigued her,
His converse tapping at concrete,
out of time with hers.
They sat on the limestone wall,
Barely touching, contemplating
The endless fall,
And talking about all the maybe's
What if's and after-all's.
She crossed the line, in late may,
And he forgot to turn away-
And a little later, entwined,
Between trees and in dappled shade,
They laid, side by side,
And cast a glance,
To the world they left behind.
- The lies, the tears, the fights, and the harsh words,
Were replaced, with sun, kisses, and fragile fingertips.
Hello My name is Elena and I'm a third year at Lancaster University where I study English Literature and Creative Writing. My dream is to be a published novellist but in the meantime I enjoy writing for the love of it and learning from my peers. I read and write gothic and fantasy fiction and a variety of poetry. |
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