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Image for the poem Little Deaths

Little Deaths

( a Sonnet )

While hoping for his call on phone I write,
There’s sound of rain & warmth from vented heat.
I’m coil’d up on the bed bathed in soft light,
And leaves that scatter chatter down the street.
 
The flicker of a bulb, the wind in flight,
My mind is playing tricks like rising damp.
The walls where shadows watch in dead of night
Keep distant never coming near my lamp.
 
The Muse is still’d while other thoughts are there,
The gusts of rain are keeping him from speech.
I pause to rest my eyes and tousle hair,
Before he comes I’m sleeping out of reach.
 
And then to crawl in bed between my hips,
My words for him have dried upon my lips.

 
 
 

NaPo/GloPoWriMo 2018
Written by Jade-Pandora (jade tiger)
Published | Edited 25th Apr 2019
Author's Note
This is my 3rd entry in the NaPoWriMo for April 2018.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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