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Untitled

by the way,

I have always loved you,

unwonderlingly which

I do not think

another hand

would be so nice

in mine

a hand last held

—no void to fill:

(the hand that grasps

is empty still).

so wait this hand

to holdest yours

when shut my eyes

as closest doors

no part, no rent

will bear the breaking

of flesh’s joy

a join making

so lay in still

at slumbers ask

a morn will come

where loves a bask

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Written by

patrick-wakefield-1

American

Published: Aug 15, 2023
LinesWords: 2380

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