Tuesday, March 31st, 2015
The Lateness of the Hour
I come to our conversation late
my dear, and in chains —
spinning memories below the wall
of half-forgotten, half-overheard promises.I reflect on
the last days of spring on
— emotionality —
before the core of your program
relaxes, releases, rewrites
the never-final revision
of our story
all over again.This, this:
no-one you know.
March 31st, 2015 at 14:13
Each time i read this, It gives me a different Reflection of my thoughts and feelings.
An interesting Piece of poetry, that gives me a different meaning every time i read it.
Thanks for the wonder:)
April 2nd, 2015 at 21:38
Thank you!
March 31st, 2015 at 20:37
Wow :-)
April 2nd, 2015 at 21:38
Thank you!