I know your last kiss
has long since evaporated
But still I refuse to wipe
that dirty secret from my lips
The shavings of my skin,
which you tore with fuelled lust
Are now braille like scars,
repaired tissue that hosts our passion
Your leaving footprints
ploughed a trail of poison
The ink within my diary
set about tracking your exit
I still hold tight our satin pillow case,
your scent deep within its fabric
I yearn for your sweet return,
an ache which consumes every irksome day
© Copyright 2016 Philip H20s. All rights reserved.
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