Friday, 10 April 2015
NaPoWriMo 10
Alphabet mine's worse than yours.
All that we write to each other,
borne of our affection,
could not be writ but for these
diminutive symbols.
Everlasting love,
frustration at the state of things,
god damned distance
have all been carefully parcelled
into words with little letters.
Just some scribbles on a screen
kicking up all this fucking
lust for each other, you being
mine and I always yours,
never to rest our minds or
our lovelorn eyes until we
put ourselves and this loaded
question to bed and be together.
Restful. Content. Soothed and
sated at having all of each other.
Thankful for the emblems
under which love blossomed.
Verily I think of you and
wander, lost, around the
XYZ of how to win
your heart and quench my
zeal for those precious letters.
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