deepundergroundpoetry.com
Nought-more.
Nought-more.
There you were
a fringe on the fringes of my mind
filling me up from the corners with a ladle
and draining me out at the sides.
There were kisses
between antagonising, ponderous, lustful discussions
that kept me going and reinforced your unconfirmed affection
and tricked me on late Sundays, and early Mondays - when I should have been at work.
There were others -
despite my trying to ignore it, despite the bi-weekly change of heart, despite the moments shared without me.
I sheltered and nurtured and hid an unwavering belief we could be,
something still on the open water.
There were days
I wept, and imagined a drowning pool of my own frustration, of infatuation, of a passion so timeless
and I grew old and broken and crumpled with waiting, so many questions left still,
unanswered.
There you were
a fringe on the fringes of my mind
filling me up from the corners with a ladle
and draining me out at the sides.
There were kisses
between antagonising, ponderous, lustful discussions
that kept me going and reinforced your unconfirmed affection
and tricked me on late Sundays, and early Mondays - when I should have been at work.
There were others -
despite my trying to ignore it, despite the bi-weekly change of heart, despite the moments shared without me.
I sheltered and nurtured and hid an unwavering belief we could be,
something still on the open water.
There were days
I wept, and imagined a drowning pool of my own frustration, of infatuation, of a passion so timeless
and I grew old and broken and crumpled with waiting, so many questions left still,
unanswered.
Published 7th Aug 2015
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