on Sunday morning waking up

[joel]

Its perfect darkness bleached— a brighter hue
than sleep prefers. I looked for you beside
me— where you yesterday reposed, but now
that space was empty and your bedclothes, drawn
and squared, amazed me by the mess
of sheets as yet I wore. Did you escape
before I noticed that you rose and blew
as breezes; was I ignorant of you?
I pulled my eyelid shades and traced your shape
where it had been – where it belonged – to bless
myself, to comfort thoughts of you. But dawn
persisted. You were gone, removed: and how
I missed you. How I wept. How I’d confide
complexities of freedom from, to you.

[Lightning Rod]

pardon my french, joel
but this is fuckin beautiful
made my Sunday morning

[hester_prynne]

Indeed, a regenerating read, most appreciated.
H

[Perdida]

I wish i had written this. Ya good, verrrry goooood.
How do you manage to pop so many of these beauties out?

grins

P