I followed you
long before Mahomet went to the mountain.
Sucked in by your bee-stung lips
and pre-cocktail days,
I would have loved myself
had you asked me.
There we were,
rare birds,
two young phoenix and not a match in sight.
Now you breathe pills
and I exhale radiation.
Love for us is as rare
as we once were.
Here we are,
two old phoenix,
lumbering up Vesuvius
and everywhere we turn
someone's offering a light.
View User's Journal
Countless Thoughts have been Lost throughout the Ages to the minds of Madmen and breathless whispers of the Dead. Man has come a long way from the Age of Thoughtful Words and Script. This is my dedication to those who have been Lost along the way.
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