I cannot find my arsenal of the written word
They were there at the edge of my lips, I’m sure
But those lips (unlipsticked and thirsty)
They were buried in the valley between your back
And they got lost as you transcended Neverland
While I watch you devoid of what to say
But filled and fulfilled
That though my prolific verses are gone
And I wish I could read them to you
(Adjectives for my superlative precious)
You are here with me
Skin to bone and hair to soul
Your slumber versus my waking hours

I choose this
Where there are no tongues
Only sacred silence

And this here we found
Is more than what I can ever mold

Because I am no longer only a poet with you in my arms –

Vivien Marie Lopez
(c) 2012


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3 thoughts on “The Poet and the Painter Point II (A Lost Poem)

Go. Moan. Scream. Tell me if you like it. Make some noise.

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