The disappearing world longs for you to touch it.
—Jim Moore
All winter, cherries,
I waited for you.
Already the orchard
nears empty,
my lips
not yet red enough.
July 7, 2011 by Rosemerry
The disappearing world longs for you to touch it.
—Jim Moore
All winter, cherries,
I waited for you.
Already the orchard
nears empty,
my lips
not yet red enough.
Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged 84 | 1 Comment
There’s something not right for me about ending on the word “enough” — I wish I could make a change to clarify, but nothing seems to work. The closest is this:
The orchard
empties,
but my lips
ache to be redder.