Jungle Room
you’re my quintessential
midnight, catching traces
of you across the duvet
in the jungle room
cross-bred with speckled
remnants of your mothers’
perfume - or is it a candle?
you’re my ushering
silhouette. I hunt the shape
of you in all my spaces - absolute
or so poetically divulged,
the imaginary portion
slips away. I saw you
become my favorite Sunday
afternoon, blasting Moderat
while you traced well-formed
fingertips across my vision,
and I can feel no other
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
