Anglo American Relations

You are my favourite whiskey,
the laudanum in my wine,
just to hold your hand,
to kiss once your neck,
would inspire
ten thousand lines.

Lighter than Larkin
to muse upon your face;
I cannot stop my love;
for my love it
has no brakes.

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011

You know who you are. I wish I did.

My love burns like ice

You were the air
I breathed in,
the laughter that
came out,
the ten thousand kisses inbetween;
So how did I get
to the bottom of this bottle?
When did this nightmare
replace the dream?

My love burns
like ice held too long
against summer skin;
worse than any cocaine low
what once pleasure
now yields countless
torment within.

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011