Untitled Poet. Poem by Alistair Plint

if there was one last dance sweet-wild-child, it would be with you my love. breaking the line till my feet bled while the music broke the rhythm in my head. if one last poem was written, i'd write it for you love. search the metaphors, similes and alliteration from the depths of the heart, till blood no longer circulated. type each word with so much care that my fingers would cramp filling it with so many words it would challenge the dictionary. if there was one last breath beautiful woman i'd use it to lock lips with you. gasp it and hold it, left with the taste of you swirling in my being and sucking you in to feed me for eternity.

if i fall again, i want to fall into you babe from the top floor of the empire estate, a free fall because i love you. if there is one last prayer woman i pray i never again would have to lock you away and that we could live together love inked in each others lives, even if only for my very last day, my lovely.


-x-