Miles Away

New poem out on Conceited Crusade! Link here

Conceited Crusade

She was sitting right next to me but

seemed 93 million miles away,

like the sun,

she told me to

“Do what thou wilt,”

and like some pagan ritual

I removed my hat when she

stood up and walked out.

Now I go to bed at night

and set a fire

to warm my bones.

What kind of spell

wipes out the dawn,

for my

heart hurts every morning

as I take

a sharp intake of breath,


love is a circle

of white light

and loss is history

in flames.

Image Credit

Tricia Sankey

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Published by Tricia Sankey

Plays with words in her free time.

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