I never said I would
ever write a poem
about us
writing about love
can’t have been
about us
those poems I never wrote
and never will write
about us
are like the tears
we’ve never shed
as they weren’t
about us
She turns towards me while opening the door — The two cavities under her collarbones, dark under the scorching lightbulb — — Her shirt...
No comments:
Post a Comment
Avis sur la chose en question
Feedback on the thing in question