our third conversation
I’m sidelong in a gaze
my neck hurts but I don’t care
I could listen
I could stare
until a phase of whitening in your hair
I haven’t blinked,
I won’t dare
my lungs need more air
but I’m enamored in my chair
I’m thirsty for a drink and you’re whisky rare
I’m tipsy
mal de mer,
I hear your voice and I’m impaired
5 thoughts on "our third conversation"
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The form and words in this poem make it very intriguing!
love that rhyme! Nice one.
This rocks.
Ah, love!
The rhyming!! *chefโs kiss