Photo by Arzu Cengiz on Unsplash
when I'm tired and
the night hangs around like a blue blanket stained
with all that spilled ink
behind a cut out moon and pin prick stars
that glisten
thoughts find me and
I dream of you
in sweaters draped across your shoulders
softly as your skin
smoothly grazes mine at midnight before
we undress
fingertips catch your chin and then eyes
gaze deep with all
that longing pent up and so long
unrequited
that evening intermission alone somehow
is far from it and
the syncopated rhythm of the day time
hours melts
into a tune into a hum into a breath
of you
About the Creator
greg sorensen
i like to let words go
one at a time


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