Respite_

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem that could be about something but probably isn't.

Submitted: July 26, 2012

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Submitted: July 26, 2012

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I see you distancing as we unravel

our weaves,

so bashful.

Getting to be a dab hand

at unstitching the knots, now.

But sorry, I forget;

you can't tie.

 

A brief respite from my walls.

I won't lie;

I enjoyed every second.

I can even count them.

 

Taking down the watchtower.

Enough of gazing at your

empty field.

 

I don't think you realise

one word could set the world alight.


© Copyright 2017 Mathew Nicolson. All rights reserved.