beauty, love, poetry, women

Warm night

A string of lights

Coiled like DNA of angels

Warm night

And she’s upstairs having a bath

Reading

Something complex and syncopated

Is

Playing on the computer

Because who listens to a stereo anymore?

but I’ve a mind to turn it off

Listen to the moment breathe instead

And a hard week behind me

Another ahead

But this chair is firm under me

And I need so little to be happy

(That joke writes itself

I am sure)

Still, on call,

And do it without complaint

Different with her,

And even the flaws serve as good

Instructions

The sound of her footsteps

On the stairs

Putting the kettle on

Book closes

Opens again

Standard

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