To Swami
The first kiss oh so tender
the second full of memories
of forgotten tears of heart-struck
nemeses and hardwon battles of mind over
matter
It does not matter if we meet again for in a while
I will be yourn and not mine again
as I slumber to bedtime bluesy woos
of lacklustre dreams without your arms to hold me
in your chest of treasured feelings and morning
has broken again without claws nor cause of all
ties of laughter and painful rejoicing for you are the
sweet one who asks not for memory,
only joyous temperance.
Yours
B
Reblogged this on TOO LONELY TO MAKE SENSE – AGELESS POETRY.
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