The Phone call

A whiff of Scent
of you from the sheets
many days later
a memory of our arching backs
The climax
The ecstacy
your forgotten stuff
and your smile
compels me each time
to make the call
that I never will.

I know now,
after all them scars

It is better this way.




Poetry by sagi
Read 25 times
Written on 2018-09-15 at 03:49

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Ashe
Sometimes that's the best decision, although I doubt you will keep it. Sometimes the scars are just too deep. It's always a joy to read a poem written by you.
Ashe
2018-09-15