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Late July
Contributed by
Natkingcole
on
Thursday, 27th August 2015 @ 03:47:49 PM in AEST
Topic:
EmotionalPoetry
|
Late July, and the rain is slipping
down the pane, collecting at the
base of the frame to rot it.
This summer is twisted and the purple
of the sky matches your old woolen
jumper, neatly left in the corner.
Don't pick up the mess, we can clean it
later when the mutts are fed and your
thoughts are planets in your eyes.
I saw you wandering the shore this morning
looking for the seals, but they were too far out;
inky blobs on the foam, lurking here and there.
In the evenings we cook our meals and
plant ourselves on the ratty couch. The
stars come out and we shy away to bed.
Your kick and whisper in your sleep at
childhood phantoms and the covers are
on the floor by morning.
We meet in the shallow water and glance
at each other like passengers on a train.
I can see that tattoo through the salt murk.
Afterward we shiver together on the sand,
and you mumble something that sounds like
a child's first word while your sandy toes curl.
You said you loved me with a smile and I laced
my hands though yours and sighed while the sea
remained the sea and the whole world kept up.
Copyright ©
Natkingcole
... [
2015-08-27 15:47:49] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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