The night so cold the fires went out,
It must have been 1983. She hated how
His love for her played dead
When she walked into the room.
Maybe we should go to the movies and
you can confuse me for the one onscreen
with the smoking gun. You can say how
cruel I was, like you told me about her.
Call off your dogs. When we open that
door to the sea, will it mean healing
or worse? Morpheus cannot finish songs
Aphrodite sung without bridge repair.
~surprised I could get that one out today but it had to be done. Thank JW for the inspiration
This is brilliant. As is all the poetry of yours I've read here. Really dig how you use language. Great work.
ReplyDeleteThank you Libby! I enjoy writing poetry and have since I was a child (literally--wrote my first piece at 4). There are things I can't express other ways so it's a big part of wholeness for me <3
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