Day 15 Prompt: (Blank) Story
Form: Clogyrnach
“This is not a love story”
The sun is still hours away.
I am trying to keep at bay,
the memory of
that day you let love,
like suede gloves,
start to fray.
Goodbyes start before you say them.
You can hear it, like a red drum,
during the day, off
beat, a stifled cough,
a standoff,
a hem,
when you expect to hear I love
you. Instead you feel disposed of.
The ring tight against
the knuckle. Looks tense.
Now a sense
of unloved.
No comments:
Post a Comment