
I liked her Summer dress
A muse’s vulnerability in a pile
She spoke in perfect verse
But I loved best her smile
I liked her Summer dress
A muse’s vulnerability in a pile
She spoke in perfect verse
But I loved best her smile
Ducking my head between the pages
This mounting pile – high on my desk
Picture postcard from the far gone
Lost her to traveling’ roadside burlesque
Hiding my mind between the sheets
But my coffee had long grown cold
Writings spilled slightly on the saucer
Loneliness steeped until its forever bold
Trading euphemisms in the dark
Blankets piled high on the bed
Finding warmth between ourselves
Love inhabits where fear can’t tread
Sheets getting tangled in our bodies
Chorus of breathing getting thick
Cherishing & celebrating each moment
Grateful she still let’s me dip my wick