-
Katya Corrgan
- SunnyOleCornwal...
- Last Record: 2013-03-14 23:47:21 +0100
- Joined: Sep 22, 2009
- http://andithinkitsgoi...
-
|
On the days that my mind fades and my smile weakens And patience is a virtue that we have forgotten to keep warm, I make my way into the corners of my heart, Wandering through dusty chambers and unswept veins To find the deepest and darkest crevice in which to rest; It is here that I sit and unfold our memories. I brush off any harsh words that have clung to my coat And wrap myself in our first encounter, The beginnings of love. I take out the soft words one by one and watch the curve of your words tremble As I hold them up to the light. I flick through the album of favourite moments, Recall our matching smiles and conjoined hands. I pick out secret glances and kissed noses from the jumble of affection, Try them on as if they were flannel pajamas and fur winter coats. I cradle the glow of shining eyes and flushed cheeks in my hands; Their warmth creeping into dimples and freckles that have not been embraced or grazed upon in a while. I hold our love close as I remember, not regret. Every morning I make my way into the corners of my heart, And every morning you make your way into its centre, And every morning I wake up and find that I love you more than I did last night. |
|
|
|
And she said to him,
"I promise to love you inbetween embraces and dreams, and when your time here flickers and your heart's rhythm is softer, do not linger but kiss me sweetly and I... |
|
|
|
You don’t see it;
The cogs and the screws and the rotting wheels with the hinges coming loose, That are holding this body together. You don’t see it; The tissue and the te... |
|
|
|
They came down on you so quick;
Crashed down over you, Smothered you, embraced you – Loved you even. Lost in the light of the blue and the gold, They washed away you... |
|
|
|
Your boots,
Battered and worn And your blue chequered shirt With the pocket half-torn, Lays empty and crumpled at The foot of your bed; Has laid there since the mornin... |
|
|
|
Think.
Too many seconds pass by. Lost amongst the clutter and the chaos, The sweeping and the silence; The emptiness that is this room. Stop. Go back to the boxe... |
|
|