Tuesday 6 April 2021

"We are past that
Aren't we?"
Asked her voice
When I reached out
In rampancy, of condescending glee

She does rejoice
Hearing my plea
Wishing for her return
I morph storms to words
My thoughts awash, lost at sea

Why do I persist
I ask why so
All I hear are echoes
Of her absence grinding
Bearing me down, being my foe




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