Untitled
My dearest darling.
It’s me.
I’m all twisted up inside now.
Are you able to love me yet?
Call
We dream talk each other.
Sneaking past our present lives.
Painful recollections bind us in a
way we can’t wrestle with.
You,
my love,
out there,
somewhere,
without me.
Detritus
Love is a limited edition
a debt owed
for being human
we want
we need
we desire
only to become slaves to love
All these poems were written by Anne Marie Silbiger
You can follow Anne Marie on Twitter.
Artwork by Elisabeth Anna on Deviant Art
Read more of our poetry here.
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