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Mar 2012
You always knew, didn’t you?
Even when it was just a smudge on the paper,

You knew.

Lingering breaths exchanged ignored,
Keeping supple lips friendly.

And when the crisp night blends with the gore of morning,
Poets trade poetry for coffee with jokes and two sugars.
And while her name lies sensually between your teeth,

Your transparent blindness engulfs the table.

For you know, i know, you know that I’ll be here tomorrow.
Emma Blaha
Written by
Emma Blaha
572
   Danny C
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