Conjunction
We are not seen together during the day,
keeping our distance, as one must. We do
nothing we should not, at least since centuries back.
Such an alignment is best kept for the dark. Continue reading
Poem
Closures
Closures
The line’s a line but drawn oblique.
Each day gives barely half the space.
The blood is work. The flesh is weak.
Mere charm in touch is all technique.
Clear eyes recoil, for nowadays
the line’s a line but drawn oblique. Continue reading
