she didn.t read that
much into the fact
that she.d given up
because of the better
idea not to scarper and
to feel not to cry
all she wanted was some
body to nestle next to
with sun under the clouds
how touching to know
he was there all these years
offering me more while I
was still settling for days
more than I expected
in the end is she; are we
comfortable with the world and
survivors in our happenstance

as we are.

Does depend on the day
but the mention of his name
jolts her into a restless
alarmingish warmth
armour amour as such
Touching to note that
somehow every time - yes
so often she looks for him
on social sites or streets
where he is pictured
at a conference a corner
sauntering in that suit
Deadlocked in memories
hypnotised by appearance
between shore and ship
indeed, just like the shipping
forecast a warning predicts
the storm yet cannot foresee
the monotonous rhythm of
Hearts melting still breaking

she easily feels
trapped quickly
after a while
in the same house
streets shops parks
at the same time
swarmed pubs parks
make her feel
isolatedly closed-in
as she was young
the vanity filled with girls
with hairspray, lipstick
she just stood there
half part of a world
outside her books
disconnecting back to today
when television resembles
confusing thoughts
haunt for decisions
nervousness relieves
as travelling antes up
yet seeming the only
solution contrary to wishes
of closeness to the
same people if you
think back a long time
when comfortable with the world.

A fascinating smile,
he starts
Reaching out while 
she reaches back glad for
an opportunity to
attention which love as well
Sun flares up
while the red leaves fall 
last Summery days
The park people have gone 
weary not him
not her
he talks to
her dog to start somewhere
building starts to
grow leading to what she
inside well knows
the wind sounds so nice
she's afraid
not in front of crowds 
but a he
so close is too near
not knowing what
happens when they'll do
what he wants
how she wants it too
He lets her
alights on eyes for now

Returning home after
a holiday and the house
smells of absence
smells of rain

Books stuck on their
shelves and my mugs
still hanging around
souvenirs of life

The carpet got a soft
lonely bounce. Sorry, I
read that somewhere
too nice to not use

Altogether where I left all
when I left and it feels I'll
never leave again
not straightening a shelf

The sun still on
my shoulder though - it's
more comforting to

pack up here
than on my way
to somewhere
past continuous

I only hope you don't think
I'm girlish or too new
romantic or overly present
or frightfully temperamentful

So I just beware a distance
as from friends as spirits
arising in an own world
without the time anymore

I only just wanted some
one kind and compassionate
and listening without consoling
and frightfully close

I find it difficult too

Why not to write
a poem a day
while the sun still out
blueing grey clouds
hunting the shine
Me into better
Insanely happy
for the artistry
of travelling entering
dreaming walking
New hights make
cogent depths
New orders mould
comfortness
The storm rumbles
And cannot thunder
by any anymore
And welds with
the sky solely