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Barometric pressure & true love (The prince of storms) (Villanelle) by Jeremi B. Handrinos
Your love has yet to keep me warm.
Still I breathe to be your votive.
There will be no calm before this storm.
I am your one, I am your swarm.
A murderer with no motive.
Your love has yet to keep me warm.
The prince-amoral-Jeremiad-dorm
has not a roof or bed to give.
There will be no calm before this storm.
Yet to claim you meant no harm?
Yes, denial is instinctive.
Your love has yet to keep me warm.
A foul weather sweater with no right arm.
Your gift of love, thanks for the sieve.
There will be no calm before this storm.
Some day soon you'll lose that charm.
What you did to me you'll then relive.
Since your love will never keep warm.
There will be no calm before the storm.
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Arithmetic Mean: 6.857143
Weighted score: 6.85652
Overall Rank: 296
Posted: April 15, 2003 2:59 AM PDT; Last modified: June 4, 2003 11:46 AM PDT
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Sasha
Comments:
509 view(s)
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This poem is fucking beautiful. Thanks for the soul-kiss. I'm feeling better for it.