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rained-on parade
Poems
Jul 2016
Four a.m.
My name spells love in every language
you say you’ve learnt; the pulsating
streets of your veins are alight with life tonight.
We walk them with empty-pockets and
hand-in-hand; the only crimes we commit
is that we lead each other to dark places;
a castle of lies; half-said the only loving
we’ve done is in our heads.
We lose time in words and suddenly
it’s four a.m. and the coldest hands
have only ever been yours; all that throbbing
gone to waste. Rest your heart
with me, it’s never lost; four a.m.
is your hour with me
because you’ll sleep and awake
and we’ll become thieves of conversations
stealing emotions we hide in jokes
and the sundry ‘have a nice day’s.
You, who else?
#love
Written by
rained-on parade
Sheffield, England
(Sheffield, England)
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