UnspokenYou always said that words were cheap
those scraps of letters torn in haste
with flouncy lines and hearts in margins,
scented lies of unkept promises.
Your love was in the arms outstretched,
the hurried kiss of early morning flights,
we fought to catch and sometimes missed
in the warmth of you, as day retired.
'Be still, don't say, don't breathe a word'
how I miss those unheard sounds,
that shirt with button lost and a battered
wallet that held my faded photograph
the one you loved and never lost,
just transferred from purse to purse
as you ruffled hair and made a mess
of silly, fancy, elaborate hairstyles
that come and go with fickle fashion.
Your unkempt, shambling form
a constant on my personal landscape
that I searched from dawn to dusk
until you returned a wry smile on your face
and made me laugh at some disaster
and kiss away the bruises that you wore,
heartsore but happy in our quietness.
In my heart, I hold the letters, unwrapped
no ribbon binding them, just the love
I saw and felt, like the scent of you and I
and blend, a mix of just the sheerest perfume.
Poetry by Elle
Read 561 times
Written on 2008-04-03 at 14:32
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