Tag Archives: seeing

You

You are sat in the pupil of my eye

I am in the neck of a bottle

Above the shiny hoards of gold

That make your heart

Your hand rests

In the small of my back like a poem

Each road I take alone

Is a dead end

A cul-de-sac of strangers

Who gesture in a language

I do not speak

To lose you

My heart would have to

Shed a skin

And slither low bellied

Back into the scrubland

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