Letters
1 Comment

Love letter # 172

In the autumn of your ardour I am already starving. The tide has turned. Inexorable momentum.

And today – your scalpel tongue. Almost vivisecting. Leaving a bruise.

Things are different now. The space between us has changed. Light has become the memory of light.

And we cannot change each other back.

We’re here now. What next?

Advertisements

One thought on “”

Leave a Reply

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

Gravatar
WordPress.com Logo

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

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ 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 )

Cancel

Connecting to %s