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The prime I’m in (cold file) grinds down
the onslaught of the surf. Wet hands
coerce her tidal politic:
a love-sick shire of common knots,
revolting, wretch assured.

   Unleash the phantoms of
the wistful world at bay
from that optimal day when climbed I up
the risers, capped to fortune,
palme-d'essence, mindful hitch.
You stitched the barrier
between your absence and my glitch -
upheld the cases made for fiery rhythms
of romance, as echoes clattered in the apse
of quiet towns’ pastoral grasp.

   I’m sitting shameless in
the offing of a while. Unseated:
will my offspring smile
at sunny landings on
the peaceful shores of joy?
Can such be relished by a boy?
Or will his chains hold strong
and anchor back to relapsed wrong?
Can such be relished by a song
and her soprano? played piano
for the crowd, but filling one’s forever,
wonder-loud?
Elin Roberts Aug 2017
2am
it's 2am

all i can think of is your arms

i want them to envelop me
drown me in your scent like the sweetest honey
let me taste those lips
before the sun rises
and daylight takes our lives hostage once more

just for a moment
give yourself to me
to keep and to cherish
i'll keep you safe my love

under blankets
tangled limbs give a sense of stability
but so does your smile
your eyes on mine
palm to palm
noses touch and my smile

my smile says all you need to know
i could lie with you forever and never get bored

— The End —