The moment I got a chance I went to a bar – a poem

And found a man who was a replica of you, Your doppelganger actually: Your face, your hair, your physique, And I had him make love to me, The exact same way you had described it, In your letters, Even including me reaching back, To you – I mean, him – for a kiss. It was more

Poets Are A Weird Mob:

I get up before the sun, And before the household, So I can write poems for you, It comes out of my fingers. In reams. One day when I finally meet you, I will give them to you and, Unless you are a poet, You may not understand, The significance. You’ll hand them back, And more

“Did you miss me?” she asked …

“I guess so,” I answered, without making eye contact, as nonchalantly as I could. “I did it to punish you,” she said casually. “I know,” I answered, flicking through the mail. “But every time I saw salt I would think of you and start to cry,” “Oh really?” She knows how much I love salt. more

Divine Retribution:

She doesn’t know where he is, What he’s doing or who he’s with, She only knows the ache for him, She only knows that now he’s Just another statistic: His life turned to ashes, The moment he hurt her, (She had the garage door down, And the engine was running), He’s the fifth one now more