no morning after
no taste of sweet regrets,
of where we’ve been
just bask in the warmth
of where we are
embraced by the silence
in words unsaid
unspoken
and, a memory
of what might have been.
In response to RDP – Tuesday: Lost
Tag: lost
Ships in the night
A
I slid my finger down the glass
the tangibility of frost, mesmerised me
I held the icy orb to my neck
found the pulse, like your kisses once did
I sat stilled, lost in memory
and the taste of you
The night was young,
I was alone
so I ordered another margarita,
for two.
a dawn bird
A Shared Space 
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