We Stopped Here
We used to sit here,
right in this very spot
so that he was facing the window.
We discussed night
without even a thought of darkness
We imagined Bonnie, our ship
my wardrobe, a pet.
Sometimes we would spread ourselves weak
in comfort
and onto fabrics,
and sometimes I was that deep
black-purple tree
larger than the stone buildings.
How long will this be here
in this spot? I wondered.
Now it hurts to lay like this
not needing toes and not yet tired.
Copyright © Taylar Wise | Year Posted 2006
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