Placeholder Image

The evidence of you,
Is written all across my bones,
Etched deep inside with sharp-edged flint,
And it aches when my breath goes cold.

There’s a chip in my bedroom paint,
Where your picture tacked to the wall,
And tea stains on my crinkled sheets,
From breakfast way past afternoon.

I catch you in a strangers scent,
On the street or deep in the tube,
Smother a breath inside my chest,
I’m endlessly in want of you.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s