The sky is gray-somber.
It rained yesterday.
Small droplets, still clinging
to the green edges of pine, fall.
Seeking salvation on her skin,
they touch her like a ghost.
She shivers, every time she is
proposed to like this.
She is proposed to again, and again,
and again...cruel drops.
Her white warm sigh,
is devoured by the cold mist.
She gently turns her
head to the side.
Only to find the shoulder
of an oak bench
holding on to her memory…
She sways her hand
gently over “June you are my soul.”
He carved it for her there.
She engraved it on her heart.
Why? She asks and waits
hoping to get an answer
from somewhere...anywhere.
The evening grows colder.
She closes her eyes, breathes deep.
She gets up to leave
And finds herself lost.
She shivers.
She is proposed to again...insane drops.
this is really a beautiful poem,
ReplyDeletevery vulnerable and honest.
Yes, this is quite vulnerable. A fine one.
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