A hope as soft on softness
intertwine
That joy
take hold and love itself be cached
Like coiled tendrils binding summer vine.
In one bare moment gone. All longing dashed.
Like coiled tendrils binding summer vine.
In one bare moment gone. All longing dashed.
No
joyous sounds of lips in quiet love.
No
silent nods of passion undeclared.
Just plays
and disappointed thoughts thereof
and echoes of a sloppy berry shared.
and echoes of a sloppy berry shared.
Should
I have never let my shivers show
When she
did tuck her shawl about my neck?
Was I
a fool for saying, “please don’t go,”
To one
my eyes could barely keep in check?
The
silence of my room is old and small.
I
slip in bed alone and make a ball.
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