November 30, 2016

The 29th of November | #CapturedInWords

7-shrill blips
A warm bed in winter
Dim light reaching in
Cold hands 
Gurgling stomachs

The smell of burnt toast
Streaks of marmalade 
And thick reserves of butter
Crumbs on crooked smile 

The mirror
Like a cameo carved 
In your image
Golden hair 
Cold hands
Smoothing it down 
With a silky, emerald green oil 

Ready to go
A kiss on our cheeks
A little dance
And a wave from the window
Watching as I go
Watching as I return 

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