Poem Hunter
YSV ( / Wales, UK)


Your hands move to the
Top of my hips,
Our lips meet,
And all is laid bare.
My brain is trained for this
But my heart is not;
The pain of absence,
The heavy silence,
The empty hole
Where hands should be holding tonight.

My bed lies…
It is empty and unmade,
There were never two.
I was afraid to move
In case the illusion shattered,
But despite my still and stationary
It did-
The picture smashed into a million pieces.

Your tears stained my window,
Ran down my cheek
And off onto the tiles.
I ran miles to find
That one final piece,
The silent peace before dawn broke
And woke me up.

The piece is now gripped
Firmly in my hand,
But you already made your peace
With the land.
Now the snow covers you as you sleep,
And the jigsaw will forever

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