Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
sgholterPoems
Norwegian summer night. She opens her guest room window and Balcony door to Give the scent of warm pine and Sunstroked willow a free tour of her Apartment on a welcome breeze. I mute the TV, as she enters her bedroom   Leaving me shirtless in shorts on her Sofa, headphones nearly plugged into My laptop when she requests a tuck-in, Knowing that granting me the remains of Her Saturday night sixpack means She's going to bed alone. I kiss her forehead goodnight. She steals A bonus hug, wanting it to Last until morning though it's Futile. I bury my face in warm, soft Neck. She Releases hesitantly. Smiles. She has bed. I have Johnny Cash and Chet Baker, Alan Watts and Allen Ginsberg, Beer, time, and a window of solitude. "Silent" and "listen" are spelled with The same letters. My impairment is that I am a man. I love her. And the aloneness that A man can only obtain when Even the loneliness has left him. I can't feel my feet, unless she does what She has learned to do; Give me space. Space with the texture, Colour and pattern of the Blanket one tucks Around The legs of someone In a wheelchair, gesturing by it: *I love your Every single Circle.*
0
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 7:18 PM UTC
Your Every Single Circle
Norwegian summer night. She opens her guest room window and Balcony door to Give the scent of warm pine and Sunstroked willow a free tour of her Apartment on a welcome breeze. I mute the TV, as she enters her bedroom   Leaving me shirtless in shorts on her Sofa, headphones nearly plugged into My laptop when she requests a tuck-in, Knowing that granting me the remains of Her Saturday night sixpack means She's going to bed alone. I kiss her forehead goodnight. She steals A bonus hug, wanting it to Last until morning though it's Futile. I bury my face in warm, soft Neck. She Releases hesitantly. Smiles. She has bed. I have Johnny Cash and Chet Baker, Alan Watts and Allen Ginsberg, Beer, time, and a window of solitude. "Silent" and "listen" are spelled with The same letters. My impairment is that I am a man. I love her. And the aloneness that A man can only obtain when Even the loneliness has left him. I can't feel my feet, unless she does what She has learned to do; Give me space. Space with the texture, Colour and pattern of the Blanket one tucks Around The legs of someone In a wheelchair, gesturing by it: *I love your Every single Circle.*
sgholter
Written by
sgholter
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 7:18 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem