Lubricate

Inside somebody you no longer know
Remember when we met I was spring green
Your dusty touch the dessicate of hand
You took a boy and left him out to dry
The arid landscape of deserted joy
Now planted with the tender shoots of trust
Oasis where the gentle springs of hope
Can irrigate the wither of my soul
The man no longer overshadowed boy
Had drowned himself in love the purer flow
The desert sand is wet but no more tears
A memory that time must now hydrate
One day I hope that you can lubricate
And wipe away the dirt and grime the hate

Advertisements

Author: thepoetautist

A Gay poet of fifty odd years who is currently living in Cambodia.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s