Monday, 12 June 2017

Languid

sometimes in love
sometimes not
sometimes above
and under and sideways
liquid and molten
syrup: gold
sometimes we're young
sometimes old
it's a comfort that's not stagnant
but forever on hold
it is that ease of breathing
a breeze hinting despair
but a solace like no other
the ticking that betokens repair
time keeps expanding
elastic, pliable
stretching on into a
loose-limbed yawn
sometimes empty-handed
sometimes not
sometimes sure-footed
and stumbles and
a secret on the wind
a season
a scent
a sense
so languid




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