After nine
Posted: December 4th, 2014, 11:40 pm
The smell of orange rind,
your name scrawled
on a cloth napkin, the last
drops of red wine; fresh
snow in air, not falling;
your hand hailing a taxi;
what joy when
coolness disappears
behind our closed door.
your name scrawled
on a cloth napkin, the last
drops of red wine; fresh
snow in air, not falling;
your hand hailing a taxi;
what joy when
coolness disappears
behind our closed door.