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Late July
Contributed by
Natkingcole
on
Thursday, 27th August 2015 @ 03:47:49 PM in AEST
Topic:
EmotionalPoetry
|
Late July, and the rain is slipping down the pane, collecting at the base of the frame to rot it.
This summer is twisted and the purple of the sky matches your old woolen jumper, neatly left in the corner.
Don't pick up the mess, we can clean it later when the mutts are fed and your thoughts are planets in your eyes.
I saw you wandering the shore this morning looking for the seals, but they were too far out; inky blobs on the foam, lurking here and there.
In the evenings we cook our meals and plant ourselves on the ratty couch. The stars come out and we shy away to bed.
Your kick and whisper in your sleep at childhood phantoms and the covers are on the floor by morning.
We meet in the shallow water and glance at each other like passengers on a train. I can see that tattoo through the salt murk.
Afterward we shiver together on the sand, and you mumble something that sounds like a child's first word while your sandy toes curl.
You said you loved me with a smile and I laced my hands though yours and sighed while the sea remained the sea and the whole world kept up.
Copyright ©
Natkingcole
... [
2015-08-27 15:47:49] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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