deepundergroundpoetry.com

An open window

I wake up in the early morning
place my hand on her upper leg.
She turns away the first time
pushes my hand away the second.
I turn over to face the open window
where the clouds cry down
on the cars outside.

There is enough room
between us
for another person.
I think of valleys of rubble
ready for collapse,
but I daren’t move.
Written by CruelHandedWriter (Jamie Rhodes)
Published
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