I’m a lame lover

and she turned
the afternoon light catching her face
“If I were sane
what would I write?”

having nothing else to contribute
i said
“What about those amber afternoons
sequestered on your grandmother’s front porch?”

she said
that just isn’t what I feel.”

i said
“What about the night we lay under a black belvet sky
a sky aritious with stars
a sky you could fall into forever?”

she said
“Not exactly what I’m looking for. . . ”

“Summer sunlight scent
blended and swirled with azure edged zephyrs. . .”

she said
“You really just don’t get this do you?

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

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