What do you do with the morning love?
...
Morning finishes me off.
The pulse is going up.
Thoughts are hazy and spinning in my head.
The pillow still has the scent of dreams.
Oh, if only every day could be Sunday!
Is love perhaps only an illusion of the light?
Sunlight gently warms the cold tiles.
Inside my heart.
I awkwardly, lazily stir the sheets.
I ponder.
Something anonymous lies across my chest.
At one time, I felt that love could be calculated.
Now I feel it as the weight of a Labrador.
Precise love, heavy to carry.
When the exact moment the tongue touched my cheek.
What should we lovers do?
We can make only promises.
Recipes made with handwritten letters.
Always molded to give chills.
Naive young girls.
You then sit at the kitchen table, pulling your hair.
You then do therapies to stop your hair from falling.
When our fingers were joined.
We bent down together for the sugar.
Above the bed.
Electricity.
Accident?
Desolate now. Only the Labrador looks faithfully.
Love was ruined between our fingers.
My wrists hurt from constantly measuring.
The days you left.
And all of a sudden — warm coffee fills the air.
Mrs. Brown celebrates the morning next door.
It's strange, she didn't come visit me today.
Maybe she has morning visits.
About the Creator
RAOM
Turn every second into a moment of happiness.
If You Love Me, You'll Do It
I met Jason when I was five years old. I could say that I loved him from the moment I saw him. He was so handsome to me and I felt in awe by his presence. When they introduced him as the new kid in school, I wanted to be his friend right away. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember his smile and how he didn't seem shy. He appeared confident and ready to learn. I waved at him and said "hello," before anyone else could even say a word. He sat next to me, and I asked him if he wanted to be friends. He looked so happy as he said, "Yes!"
By Sidney Smith (Sid Smith)7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Love was ruined between our fingers, that hit me so hard. Loved your poem!
Great feelings and many days I wish it was Sunday as I drag myself up for work at 545 am