some other time

Was there a time

the lips met

a minute before

the glass was knocked

and the blood wine

gushed? Today

 

is dry; a faint

mark remains,

but the sentiment

is dead, from the waist

down. The flag-stones

now bare were

 

coveted by feet

that knocked about,

heels that dug the rose

bed and the plush

bed-side rug.

6 thoughts on “some other time

  1. thanks K. good to hear from you again. this is about regret – or something like that. I’m in a quiet room by myself, remembering a time it was filled with laughter, love etc. the heels are a kind of close-up – out in the garden, and later my bedroom.

  2. A poignant, raw piece, quite cleverly writ. Those ones usually are. I especially like what I interpret to be stubborness in ‘the heels that dug the rose bed…. 🙂

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