Wednesday, 20 May 2009


One day less like that
And I’ll be happy;
One more torture to reward me
With its passing;
One call forwarded
To me whilst in transit
And immediately answered.

Turning round for home,
And quickly with it,
In anticipation of my beauty’s
Return fixture;
Wrapped in fresh skin
To begin another journey,
And more than fingertip worthy.

The loss on the faces of the
Recently wakened
When they scan the horizon
And ask why it's frightening
Then shelter in the
Arms of an elder love
They’ve become accustomed to;

I much prefer more abstract
Partners to the
Personal, they cling less
Needily each day,
And what they have
To give me may be relatively
Minor, but I’m inclined to mind it.

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