the man she was with before
me whenever the past came up
& i would listen all the while
the name sent flames up & down
my spine but the history of love
is in all the details so i held
her hand and let her talk my brain
rattled in hatred and in fear the days
since she left and the bad dreams have
turned into dust the radio plays infinitely
sad music but i'm ready & waiting for the next
trainwreck but the thought does come when the
empty feeling of night settles in--does she talk of
me with him?
1 comment:
Very nice to see a poet tap a universal emotion in a quiet, graceful way.
Donal Mahoney
Post a Comment