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?

One Comment Add yours

  1. mdshahjahan says:



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