beauty, love, poetry, women

woman in black

my woman in black

decanting denture tablets

into tea stained cups

Telling me the things

Which make her sad

Stains

Spilled sugar

All the things

But I like it

Because everything with her

Is a test or a celebration

I’m a more private man

Because the light of her

Burns away the corrupted need

For attention

And I bask in her light

Even when she’s dressed

In shadows

Yet I remain umoved

Shifted only by will

So I shall sit

Watch her

A little longer

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