57

“Come back to bed,”
like a phantom, eager
to pull me in and
hold me ransom.

Our past just so raw
I can roll it around on my tongue, sinewy
sepia memories and a history so faded
I can’t make out those people in the shot
embedded forever in film
I swear I may have seen before
a lifetime ago.

I’ve learned not to
seek refuge from those who
refused me in the rain
but did let me in when the sun shined.

Finding yourself tangled again
familiar bedsheets and instinctual fingers
remember that your own hands held the umbrella
that kept you from the storm,
not someone else’s promise that
this time, it’s different.

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13 Replies to “57”

  1. So, true to life. Rain or shine, no matter what friends our life brings us, we want them to be there at all times, not just when everything is going rosy. Life is so poetic and you bring it to life in a way that only you can. Beautifully written. Loved it. Stan

    Like

  2. When love is at its infancy, innocence, and introductory phase. We all can relate, in a way that is how we are to give back from those who gave us their unconditional. Wait it out, or can we balance that love. Lovely work as ever, milady Elle. keep up the good work.

    Like

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