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Zoë Westbrooke
Poems
Jun 2010
L(ight)overs, D(ark)eserters.
I'm sorry.
I don't want to go to the beach
This afternoon.
You see,
Sun and I are not on good terms.
He's burned me in the past.
And while
It breaks my heart,
I've moved on.
His name is Moon.
He get's me.
He's softer,
Not harsh like Sun.
He's solemn,
Not obnoxious like Sun.
So we can go to the beach,
I guess...
But can we go
Tonight?
Written by
Zoë Westbrooke
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