The Death of the Dove

There will be others,

photo by hungrybison

names on napkins and paper flowers,

men in the darkness.

I shall love you through violence.

In the room,

there was another,

from fire came fire.

Regret for the fate of the dove

in a ruffled dirty bed

she sleeps, a bullet in her neck.

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Filed under American West, creative writing, lonliness, love, micro stories, original writing, photography, poem, poems, Sex, short stories, thoughts, writing

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