05 April 2010


Still I wish for you;

The sap rising in the trees

I will not blossom.


Yes, it is calmer

without you close, rain clouds scud

across the grey sky.


Ripe for seeding, sun

falls on open eyes, legs, heart;

you push into me.


You pull out of me,

drive from the hotel; litter swirls

windblown vortices.


Your seed trickles out

a wet patch; summer is due,

sunshine flew away.


Your words trickle in

Why do I let you? Cut, not

clutch at memories...

Published at The Camel Saloon here

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