Narcissae
never saw his own
reflection
in the sky arm’s length
selfie sticks are
not a patch on
his fake tan
the love machine keeps my
society in the tin can
laptop on his knee the heating pad
a lover far more
constant than you
ever tried to be in all the time
we shared a bed
I count
the times
you met my eye
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A fine poem, dear Kerri.
ReplyDeleteLove this one too Kerri - I've come back and read it a few times now. My first impulse was to say Ouch .... the heating pad wins hands-down!
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