Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
He's out the door each morning a little peck upon her cheek she remembers other times kisses that made her knees, go weak He's at the office early his secretary smiles and winks but he's elsewhere in other times so love drunk, he can't think The kids are off to school as she's laundry bound so much she wants, in fantasy and yet, he's not around He spends his days in meetings wishing for a holiday where there's nothing but, he and her a simple getaway Years go past and yet this record plays on and on down corridors sending them their different ways
0
Jul 11, 2019
Jul 11, 2019 at 6:11 PM UTC
But for a word, or deed
He's out the door each morning a little peck upon her cheek she remembers other times kisses that made her knees, go weak He's at the office early his secretary smiles and winks but he's elsewhere in other times so love drunk, he can't think The kids are off to school as she's laundry bound so much she wants, in fantasy and yet, he's not around He spends his days in meetings wishing for a holiday where there's nothing but, he and her a simple getaway Years go past and yet this record plays on and on down corridors sending them their different ways
A kind word, a romantic act, a soft touch on wanton skin never to late, or early yet, too once more begin, too love again ;D
TemporalFugue
Written by
Jul 11, 2019
Jul 11, 2019 at 6:11 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem