I know
you’ll say
with a pat of
a reassuring hand
“It will come again,
It will.
There will be another.”
And while
you mean well
and I even believe you
this morning
my skin
is longing
to be touched
and lightly,
my lips
to be brushed
with a kiss, sweet
and my eyes
to be held
in a gaze beyond
fondness, stirring
shared.
Allow me this.
For I am open
but missing,
not “him”
more than
another
for
a deep breath
of love’s burning
smoke.
If you would like to hear me reading this poem, you can do so by clicking here.
Much Love to you Deborah.
Merci, Patricia! Franchement. 🙂
Very flattered by that lovely Lorraine.
Oh, Joan. Your life…
Sending Love.
I don't write them often, Janelle but maybe I should? 😉
Um, ok?
Sending Love right back to you, Laura. Thank you.
Love you so much, my Valentine, always, Sister.
I bet you are right, Ali.
Thank you R&G for all of your kindness.