Poetry, SundayScribblings

sunday scribblings.blank

he asks in an almost too quiet to hear, can you?
telepathic touch too soon she takes two steps back, how can i?

terra firma the raindrops continued around and in between
reluctant revolution revealed contained a world within

he breathes in strong and assured not willing to relent
mute she breaks and turns cradling the backwards

oh how it howls here sweeping surely
speaking of his softened features melting mercy

rhythmic riot pulling push he stalks the still
the space between stayed and quiet

…….this is how it is sometimes. that place of unwilling willingness, torn yet soothed. 


sunday scribblings: revolution


writing is everything...

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