Poetry (words)

In dreams. 


Last night I dreamt of you. Not sure if it’s habit, but it’s something I often do. 

Strange how familiar it’s seems to feel your clothing in my dreams. Like reality on my fingertips, the shape of your mouth, the curve of your hips. 

The alarm the intruder that calls the shots, it shatters momentum and shapes the plots. But throughout the day those scenes return, for that reality I yearn.

Where I run my fingers through you hair and tell you the thoughts only we could share. I bite my tongue and taste you still. I close my eyes just to feel. 

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Poetry (words)

Wednesday 

I’m on my second coffee of the day. Almost time to leave. I’ve got two meetings today and a head full of ideas.

I hope you’re feeling better and the day is kind to you x 

Miserable weather.  My boss took me for coffee today! Surreal experience if I’m honest. Not horrible, just very strange. Nice environment for a meeting though. 

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Poetry (words)

Tuesday 

Beautiful morning. 

On the bus home. My feet are throbbing. Long bath before dinner.  It’s been a good day. 

Second day that the bus driver stopped so I could cross the road to my flat. What a gentleman! I’ll thank him tomorrow.

The forsythia is about to burst into colour. It’s always the first sign of brighter days ahead. Out of the darkness at last, although it’s a tad nippy this afternoon. 

I fancy chilli, but can’t be bothered. 

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Poetry (words)

Speak 

The spoken words…like nothing else that exists. The voice documenting every detail. Shallow, but explosive. To hear desires with your breath attached. Close enough to tell you. Close enough to touch you. Poetry lives in the mouth and spills from every vein. 
Fingertips down your spine that’s how poetry feels. When one word  can leave you aching to hear the next. 

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