exhuming emotions

exactly like teaching the youngest you know
x, y, z, then the end of the
humid waiting and learning period which was
using every bit of the day that was left
murdering the doubt that set us against each other
if left alone we would still come back together
nothing is as comforting as being told you are missed
growing old joined and unafraid to try new things
evidence of how much attention the night needs
mystic times that come back again
on the occasion of our desired evening
take a moment to appreciate where you are
in time all things change as they must
only you can make me see how to get through today
not that we will talk, i just go through it in my mind
sometimes asking myself what you would do

About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
This entry was posted in poem, poems, poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

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