When you say that you miss her,
do you miss her intelligence, her humour?
What about her laughter, the sparkle
in her eye when you reach out to tickle
her during your date to the movies
and how she complains when you add anchovies
to your pizza? Do you miss that
or do you just miss bringing her to bed,
a willing body that reciprocate
to your constant inner needs?
Her whole being is a temple
for you to worship but you trampled
on her garden, leaving crushed
seeds of hope and scatters of unbloomed
dreams of being loved and adorned.
Guess you never felt guilty for leaving her torn.
-m.b
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 10:50 AM UTC
When you say that you miss her,
do you miss her intelligence, her humour?
What about her laughter, the sparkle
in her eye when you reach out to tickle
her during your date to the movies
and how she complains when you add anchovies
to your pizza? Do you miss that
or do you just miss bringing her to bed,
a willing body that reciprocate
to your constant inner needs?
Her whole being is a temple
for you to worship but you trampled
on her garden, leaving crushed
seeds of hope and scatters of unbloomed
dreams of being loved and adorned.
Guess you never felt guilty for leaving her torn.
-m.b
Request permission to use this poem