Harsh lights and slurred words,
Riding the cruel night as I
Imagine you naked in your nest.
You are not here, fuck you,
And I claw at the mind shapes of
Your entrancing curves and lines.
Screw this metropolitan carousel,
Italians and Greeks engrossed in
Fold-out maps of tomorrow's selfies.
'Don't text me now' you write,
Me draining my beer and wondering
If he is there or has hit you again.
Perhaps it is just love and caring,
Knowing I am fucked and sparking
In the night like broken wire.
July 2016 (E)
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Fragments And Reflections
PoetryPoems looking at everything and anything not in my other collections. Here you'll find life and time, wild oceans and lonely coast paths, busy streets and empty hotel rooms, wild concerts and late night writing. All just fragments and reflections, l...
