deepundergroundpoetry.com
Gaslight
You might not remember
what was done by gaslight
but I do.
The figures in the frosted glass
are pressed upon my brain,
no matter how hard you force the lie through.
You might not remember the light in its sconce,
and that’s why
I’ll never love you.
what was done by gaslight
but I do.
The figures in the frosted glass
are pressed upon my brain,
no matter how hard you force the lie through.
You might not remember the light in its sconce,
and that’s why
I’ll never love you.
Published 11th May 2022
| Edited 12th May 2022
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