The Knot Is Like Our Love

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Two strong, moist hands pull you near
Taking your waist and leaning you back
Eyes study your curves like they study a map
While searching the dark, it’s only you and I here

Loose, dark brown hair is swept to the side
Our ragged breathes are slow and in time
With your heart beat in tune with mine
We cling to what we had before the love died

So faint are your pleads to loosen the knot
From blue lips so cold, the blood has stopped
Roughly, it teases your creamy, smooth neck
Hot breath on your skin turns to cold sweat
To let go of you, I haven’t yet found the will
Our love was so strong, it would only lead to the kill
Last edited by motherflippinflapjacks on Tue Nov 27, 2007 4:14 pm, edited 3 times in total.
"I wonder if Ryan realizes that he's really twelve and a passenger on the Titanic." ~ A loving friend




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Intense! I like it =]
One thing I don't understand are the blue lips so cold.
Everything is hot but their lips?
Haha if there is an obvious answer to my question I'm going to feel stupid.
Currently reading: The Dead Zone by Stephen King




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Thanks! =]

I went back and edited the sonnet based off of your comment. I kinda wanted to show the voice killing the woman he loves. (Morbid, I know.)
"I wonder if Ryan realizes that he's really twelve and a passenger on the Titanic." ~ A loving friend




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Haha okay thanks for clarifying it =]
Currently reading: The Dead Zone by Stephen King




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Good work.

I totally thought this was about sex, and here is why: 'death' is an Elizabethan pun on 'orgasm'. I think it would be wonderful to leave the ambiguity there. Did he kill her? Or did he 'kill' her?

Some of the syntax is clunky, especially towards the end. The last line needs...something. Maybe rewording? I dunno. Just...something.

Keep writing!
Sing lustily and with a good courage. Beware of singing as if you were half dead, or half asleep; but lift up your voice with strength.




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I love this! Very intense and...passionate! Of course, I'm not good at critiquing poetry, but I liked it. Keep writing! DR
"This kind of love is not a product of reasonings and statics--it just comes-none knows whence-and can't explain itself. And doesn't need to." Mark Twain



She conquered her demons and wore her scars like wings.
— Atticus