Jacques du Lumerie


Our Lips In A Liquid Pilcher...

Our lips in a liquid pilcher
Are so gently rolling
Sleep in a corner
Chiseling away the sharp walls
From around our secret whispers.

You dropp a smile
I pick it up, place it on a
Passing cloud,
It rains softly
Throughout the morning.

I dropp a tear,
You swing on it like a child
Your coat open to
The moments of another hour.

Even rain can be a blessing
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