by abbya

the deserted one next door, 
the kid like baggage for the auctioneer; 
the ill-humoured landlord emerged 
huge smokes on each cursed word

love cannot be love in dark lights 
of sleights, smarts, deceits;
man vanished to softer bosoms 
where dreams are quieter
days peaceful, meals sweeter?
Love is sweet as it can be,
as grass sings of better sunrise. 

Deserted by abbya

© Copyright 2006. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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