Lassitude

I can't count you anymore
Can't tally the aching moments
Whose edges have knitted into scar tissue
That desperate grief is a distant valley
and a time blanket, left in a perfect date
Beneath a surreal sky,
where lawns remain unrequited
by the sin of our love and tread

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.