Let's start with last spring.
Left senseless by lust,
your lies were your shield.
Love struck,
but left, slicing through
the loitering shadows.
Longing seems
the losing side's
surest legacy.
Your secrets were legion.
It's a long slide
from liaison
to solitude. You are
lucky to be standing.
My lingering solace?
Lost in suspicions, I
learned to shoot and leave.
Sensible.
The Piker Press moderates all comments.
Click here for the commenting policy.