i've been sitting here
in my lime monoblock chair—
playing with the tip of my curly hair
waiting for you for decades,
letting my skin rot in ages.
even my body becomes weak
to even move my hands
closer to yours--
when the time has come,
when my nails have been dull
to even scratch the back of yours...
and for sometime, we will grow old
and our skin will be out of light.
we will be too tired to even fight.
we will soon watch the snowflakes fall—
we will meet again pasttime
at the other side of the hall
the spring of love will be out of thymes,
for us to pick dead flowers for sometime.
thymes
March 11, 2023
YOU ARE READING
Pieces of Moonbeams
PoetryPieces of Moonbeams | 2023 This poetry collection contains proses & proses woven from my heart. Pieces here are a part of me. Stained by longing, love, grief, hurt, happiness, and any other available emotion I could profoundly describe. -- I am rel...
