to end.

Gentle and curved

back beat down by your lies

eyelashes clinging to skin

like I cling to thoughts

of us trickling out of

jazz clubs and

bookstores and

the coffee shop by the river

where you wade in the glow

of a glistening 5:00 sun

and I long to see you

tangled and grieving for me

in your bed sheets.

 

How ridiculous

to love so quickly

drenched with

midnight

dancing

on our palms.

 

Danielle Fusaro

via Poetry

Danielle Fusaro

Coffee-drinker, list-maker, and lover of interesting people. Other hobbies include taking photos of windows and wishing it’s winter when it’s not. Oh, and I write sometimes.

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