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kofordkaPoems
After all the things He spent with me… I was Never a note — a flower — only A brief connecting flight. I am not the type Clinging to security — yet — What once were fingers On delicate hand, are Crooked — Clawing. Howbeit his snake coiled, Relents its wring. And slow release… Relieves my grief.
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Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 9:12 AM UTC
Now that He's Gone
After all the things He spent with me… I was Never a note — a flower — only A brief connecting flight. I am not the type Clinging to security — yet — What once were fingers On delicate hand, are Crooked — Clawing. Howbeit his snake coiled, Relents its wring. And slow release… Relieves my grief.
Written by
kofordka
22/F
Apr 19, 2019
Apr 19, 2019 at 9:12 AM UTC
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