It's just poetry, it won't bite

Bled Out


10.13.16 Posted in today's words by

Gary Priest’s most recent poem to appear here was “Fresh Red Paint” (August 2016) 

Bled Out
By Gary Priest

The sun sinks like a scuttled ship.
A moment shared with you,
as precious and desperate
as that last cigarette before quitting, again.

The taste torments us.
Lips with only goodbye left.
Tongues that stopped making sense,
once they found their rightful place.

As the moon in its last quarter,
crashes the party; our night is spent.
Our moment gone, but we’re clinging on.
Hopeless defiance down to a science.

Time has finally bled out.



2 Responses to “Bled Out”

  1. Kay Middleton says:

    I like this very much. There were several lines I want to ‘steal’…our night is spent, taste torments us, …
    This one wraps around my tongue, my ear, my heart. Very skillfully done. I will read it many times, which makes this poem better than chocolate!

  2. Meaningful pleasures.

Latest Podcast Episode
0:00
0:00
vox poetica archives