Tuesday, 24 February 2009

POETRY- Stubble.


Fresh beard on old face

Dirt clinging to each fibre

Penetrating the skin

bringing it to the fore

Shielding naked flesh

smothering cheeks deep

Holding in place the lines

Creating an illusion

Of difference

Though indifference

Is the true father

Of this shaded conception.


Grains of unsubtle stubble spike through

where soft kisses used to fall.


P Davidson 25/02/09

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