Your Crime

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Your skin glows like your crime, blossoms punishment as the lily in the purest hope of spring.
My heart follows your fading voice and leaps like a hyena at the whisper of your name.
The evening floats in on a great doves wing.
I am comforted by your scarf that I carry into the twilight of dusty beams and hold next to my heart.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of blood.
As my mind falls from your scarf, it reminds me of your crime.
In the quiet, I listen for the last loud of the day.
My heated heart leaps to my coat. I wait in the moonlight for your secret car so that we may watch as one, heart to heart, in search of the magnificient red and mystical prison of love.

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would anyone like to comment?

[Rachel]

Perhaps you might like to comment on someone else's work, as stated in the rules which you appear not to have read.

Rachel

[cooladd]

I like the idea. I didn't quite get the point in parts though. Perhaps it's just me.

My heated heart leaps to my coat. I wait in the moonlight for your secret car so that we may watch as one, heart to heart, in search of the magnificient red and mystical prison of love.

I think you could miss out a few words here. What is the secret car all about?

[adder]

i love the imagery you use. keep posting