a dragon

You feel her lips.
Like fire they spark, her words are sharp
and her tears are fuel.

Mine are burnt.
Not yet peeling but void of feeling
and longing to be kissed again

I’d slayed the dragon
It lay motionless, a devoted mess
to her slayer.

My armour was scraped
As protection it’s useless against a fruitless love

a dragon

latenitelite

Whakatane, New Zealand

  • Artwork Comments 1

Artwork Comments

  • jalcruz
,
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