Distractions: A Book of Poetry

Poems that I've written

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105. Left

And he is left sitting alone
on a cold stone bench,
watching her disappear.
The setting sun touches the tree tops,
illuminating the fading evening
with leaves on fire.
He sits 
and remembers
as she is stolen away
He sits and wonders
what would happen
if she could just stay.
And he remembers 
holding her close
She was so, so warm
and her lips so soft.

And she is left on a shooting range
disguised as a speeding car
Taking her away, far away
from him.
Bullets are fired, aimed at her brain,
but she deflects the inquiries
and reminds herself of backup plans.
She pulls him to the front of her head
and wraps the thought around her,
a blsnket to keep her warm and safe.
Then she just sits
and watches the world blur past
and she remembers
his arms around her, the safety
and the warmth.
he was so, so warm
and his lips so soft.

And now they are suddenly 
alone
and
cold,
Shivering in anticipation,
Waiting for the next embrace;
Each one is dreaming of the other,
with ghosts of kisses still imprinted on their lips.

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