later than it should be

we’ll look back on this and say

it was apparent from the beginning, reframing perspective

but believe me I

know nothing of myself.

Bitterly afraid of choice,

we laugh at nonchalance –

always that sweet sorrow:

is this the last time? will I lose you

by accident, you slip away into a snowbank,

fall back, eyes glazed, swiftly buried

and I forget again

not because I don’t love you,

but because I cannot hold this hurt.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s