Early sun by the stair
looms a shadow over discarded shoes,
an open door, empty suitcase.
For two.
Ways parted in A.M silence,
a single passing glance, of thought,
of shame.
Dear, we won't be here again,
or the same.
Oh but what time won't change.
The moon to a passenger,
your room still haunts me at night.
These sheets around my throat,
know they are not mine.
Morning girl,
I will learn in time,
not to be so tired.
Nov 15, 2017
Nov 15, 2017 at 8:40 AM UTC
Early sun by the stair
looms a shadow over discarded shoes,
an open door, empty suitcase.
For two.
Ways parted in A.M silence,
a single passing glance, of thought,
of shame.
Dear, we won't be here again,
or the same.
Oh but what time won't change.
The moon to a passenger,
your room still haunts me at night.
These sheets around my throat,
know they are not mine.
Morning girl,
I will learn in time,
not to be so tired.
We haven't spoken since.
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