PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I remember everything 

and I want to forget

I want to misplace the years when

love had found its season

inside green forests

When we were locked in arms,

hearts loaded,

the guns in our bones ready to blow

When your eyes dripped dark wheat 

looking at me,

your desire clear and simple 

That was way back when. 

This is the desert now 

where things go to die

or they cannot be born at all

But I am a Xerophyte 

I barely need you

and what little you give 

is almost enough 

for me to hang on to