I was speaking today, a someone who
said to me I said to her
That I loved her once.

Thought that I could love her again.

The dance of that slow cadence
The lips a faint touch of white
Erect and frosty

Not mine, would I have liked to be?
It was not, never would.

Perhaps. Not.

The linger of a half wish
A full desire
Leaps the heart, mind unchained.

Since my sleeve is weary of these lies
To adorn lines to speak
What I cannot

I will love her again


One thought on “Foil

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