Old Waters

I found your blog
thought about leaving some message
hesitated, what to say?

rainy nights. a thunderstorm I opened the door to
100 pounds sopping wet, 6’2 and

your skinny ribs poked like elbows
wet clothes

that was so long ago
the thoughts I have now are of

a uniform spine of stephen kings
for a long time I wondered if your bookshelf gave you nightmares

you can’t spell stephen without part
of my name. I don’t know why

I am thinking of you
maybe it’s because the day is grey

and rain threatens. You did too.
You are memories of a cold house

ice for veins, strained dinner conversation. I hope you have grown
up to be nothing like your father.

Five years ago,

Carlisle station. There was snow on
the line and I told you
I no longer wanted to be part of your

Paris-proposal whole. Our
months were ugly and throttled and

I have only just decided to forgive
a love presented
as a present

but packed with tacks
I forgive, and forget.

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About fiercemissc

Twenty-something Geordie girl living and working in Hong Kong. Young, free and single and making the most of it.
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