A Game of Chance

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Infedility from a detached point of view

Submitted: November 09, 2006

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Submitted: November 09, 2006

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Duty calls to me

I feel morally bound

By your sunlit smile

Night worries at my chapped hands, discreet,

Hiding the black ribbons of deceit

That adorn my hair

And tie my wrists to his kiss.

 

I'm sorry, I want to say,

But it is to vacuous and shallow,

Like the low tide at moon's rise

I want to feel mastered by this guilt,

But your distance won't allow it

Seas move in and drift the continents;

Africa feels warmer tonight,

And here, August has begun its decline.

 

January will bring you,

None the wiser,

And black night will shade

My dirty laundry from your view

Goodbye, I want to say,

But it is meaningless;

What is one kiss

In our night's of many?


© Copyright 2017 Nicola Jane. All rights reserved.

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