Taste the olive phlegm upon her pallid lips As you bow low and press them in a kiss. Feel her wheezing, smell the odor of the sickness Permeating through your lungs, the breath of your sweet mistress. Touch her hair and feel her once-warm bosom, Captivated by her broken smiles, you feel unease And, staring longingly into her sapphire eyes For one last time, you weep, and she falls still, her gaze in yours.
You just need to give people time to reply hun. I loved it, Its sad, but the words youve used are amazing i like your style.
This poem inspires in me a deep feeling of disgust. probably the idea of tasting someone else's phlegm that does it to me, haha. Anyways, good work, the disgust is not at the poem, just the feeling it produces I can picture holding them as they die of a long sickness, surrounded by the odors of death, losing someone I love. Sad. Thanks also for continually bumping it up, I seem to have missed it the first two times.
