Ominous Kisses

On the surface of windows and reflective things
there is a gleam of spiteful reverence
as realizations placate to the sound of silence

They reflect apparitions of the things behind me
tattered books-the memory of faded knowledge
faceless shades-things that came and past

And as the desperate twinge of denial
corrodes the crooks of youthful tapestries
embroidered within its will is a premonition

They speak of the aging tides poised in the flesh
pressed in the leather boundaries of my cheeks
of deaths ominous nature as he kisses my withering hands

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