In the old place, as you snatched your gaze away from me
I saw our futures in the furniture behind your head,
carved from antithesis, set in stone;
you rolled your eyes across an over- stretched conversation
and years flexed and flew.
.
While I pirouetted into semi dark,
you stuck your colours to the nearest domestic lamp
and remained stoically moth-like. I hardly dare knock
at our last closed door, fearing the beat of distressed wings,
but I come with fresh baked anodyne,
and if you answer, it will make this new morning blossom.
Julia,
Hi! john from the Book of Pain poetry blog (http://bookofpain.wordpress.com) here. I wanted to say how much I enjoyed your poetry. It has a wonderful sense of rhythm and surprise to it. Thank you so much; and thank you to Lily of the serialoutlet blog for recommending you! I look forward to many more posts.
john
Thank you, John, and welcome to this poetry cave. I believe there are over three hundred miles of secret passages – I haven’t even begun to dig downwards – so it will be good to have you along 🙂