Withdrawn
what I thought was going to last, drains like sand
from the hour glass
did I blink, when that look faded from your eyes?
my ears, not attuned to the sound of your heart's door closing
to the smile, that came more slowly
to the touch, growing cold, before it was withdrawn
to love, that packs its bags and leaves
the passport stamped with yesterday
Copyright ©
Jo Bien | Year Posted 2010
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