darkness
at a window
not
at the door
is
this what we were
fighting
for
the
perfection of traffic
the
roar of your hair
where
were you
if
you were not there
the
politics of fear
when my teeth are broken
front row tickets to watch trees
a premise left unspoken
jonquils
open quickly
before
the last confession
we
both fall asleep
in
the middle of the session
the lighter thrown in anger
breaks a cracked mirror
our final cigarettes
floating down the river
this is a nice piece, the rhymes help the incongruity
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading and for leaving a comment.
Delete"Darkness at a window/not at the door" is terrific, and the rhyme opens and shuts so well.
ReplyDeleteWonderful! Thank you very much.
DeleteThank you Efi. I have tinkered with the third stanza.
ReplyDelete