Sunday 24 January 2016

1 New Poem

Not As We
Too long since I felt wisened skin,
your palms against me;

Talking like that,
burrowing closer, junk drawer memory,
knowing it kills of affections
denied,

Knowing cross patches of
steel reading lamp light,
all keeping company.

Knowing next time, if ever,
I’d hold you closer to heart:

Beating still the same.

No comments:

Post a Comment