In Another Life
She pours his tea and watches steam
rise like words she cannot say
He laughs and nods but never sees
the ache she hides each day
She walks beside him down the lane
his hand too close to bear
The breeze lifts leaves and carries dreams
of fingers in her hair
His coat once brushed against her arm
and burned her skin all night
She told herself it meant too much
then turned to snuff the light
He speaks of her with quiet pride
the wife who waits at home
Her smile stays fixed, her voice stays kind
while something cracks alone
She will not plead, she will not name
the truth she keeps inside
She’s learned to wear a careful face
and swallow foolish pride
She loves him still, she always will
though fate drew cruel design
And all she dares to think aloud
is in another life he would be mine
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Rachel Reviews: The Spiral Archive by Pieter Hendrik
It's difficult for me to know where to start with a review of this book as it was, for me, an entirely unique experience and one that I'll probably never have again. I don't want that to be interpreted as unenjoyable but it has left me scratching my head a little and ruminating on its content, its themes and its characters.
By Rachel Deeming2 days ago in BookClub
Comments (2)
Lovely Marie. There is a great but nerve-wracking feeling when you feel something for someone that doesn't recognise it. As Sting says, "Every move you make, every step you take." Each one you think is a signal. I love these two lines: "The breeze lifts leaves and carries dreams of fingers in her hair"
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