never a larger divide than when I pull at your orbit
All in Poetry
Sorry [about what could have been – but trying to be less sorry for who I am].
Some arrive in pairs;
More leave coupled,
Sometimes in multiples.
You wrote me prose about the rain and
now when it storms I can’t seem to
think about anything else.
O to shield oneself with the visage of the sunset;
To shroud away from the rake of nail and bruise of touch