We sat under the tree.
He was quiet,
I tried to be.
My mind reeling with images of last night,
It was difficult.
He turns to me lazily,
As if he hadn���t intended to.
I waited,
�����存ay something������.
������.anything������..
I prodded him silently,
Looking straight at him.
He failed to meet my eyes,
Instead he looks at my badly cut hair,
Ugly,
Disheveled in the heat and breeze,
And at my lips,
And then lazily turns away,
As if his mind is made up.
He was quiet,
I tried to be.
My mind reeling with images of last night,
It was difficult.
He turns to me lazily,
As if he hadn���t intended to.
I waited,
�����存ay something������.
������.anything������..
I prodded him silently,
Looking straight at him.
He failed to meet my eyes,
Instead he looks at my badly cut hair,
Ugly,
Disheveled in the heat and breeze,
And at my lips,
And then lazily turns away,
As if his mind is made up.
3 comments:
You Shona are the most passionate person i have ever met. You make poetry.
blush blush!!!
thank you l>t
it must be liberating to be so self deprecatingly poetic...but do u realise that the agonisingly heartbreaking moments that u put across has in a way cathartic effect on us
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