Thursday, 31 July 2014
Something Missing
I miss you.
I miss the structure of your words
and your diction, just so.
I miss your calm and the sound of your smile.
I long for fingers never felt
and your unseen teeth and tongue.
I miss the man I was
when I used to wake so early
just to get back to loving you.
The hope, the anticipation,
the racing of my heart
with every thought of you.
Our shared aversion, exasperation.
I miss being the buoy with all the answers
and it seems so very distant
though my heart holds you ever closer.
I miss you my love.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Paint Poem
Day Thirty I like a poem because it's not like a painting. Because I'll confidently cradle something stainless; hold the exceptio...
-
Day Nineteen In our village by the mountain, there lived A man p eople called The Wrestler , It was long ago, when my dad was a kid. He - ...
-
So, two weeks in and I'm somewhat surprised to find myself sticking at this poetry malarkey. In fact I'm enjoying it very much. To...
-
Day Thirty I like a poem because it's not like a painting. Because I'll confidently cradle something stainless; hold the exceptio...
No comments:
Post a Comment