Stephen Thomas - Eight

A tear runs along the lines of her life
Distaste drips
Mingling with makeup
A thin veneer to protect her eyes

Those cisterns overflowing to flush out pain
Wash her away in the memory,
The three-word bond
Pressed close by locked lips

Tragedy is lost in a whisper –
Sighed out in the lull of a warm embrace
Suspended slightly by hopes and dreams
And tossed away as the moment fades.

Stephen Thomas

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/eight-5/