2 poems from the past:

Erasing Daylight:

I want to talk ourselves
To sleep
Under a cool down comforter
With a purple blanket on top
And fluffy soft satin pillows.

I want to wake up at four o’clock in the morning
Holding each other and making love.

I awakened you when
Your body became aware
Of mine.

I want to fall asleep
In your arms
And dream of
Erasing daylight.

Cigarette Suicide

Plath said it best:
“Now I have lost myself I am sick of baggage.”

Sick of baggage indeed.
But I don’t quite feel the need
to slit my wrists
or slip my head into the oven.
No desire to hasten defeat.

I prefer the slower route:
Day by day, molasses may
Pour its tar stained stream
For what seems like eternity.
But, like a dream, though
The moments seem to last
When you awaken with a start
What was once forever
Has quickly past.

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