In the Mirror

You
never wrote
for me

At least
not where
               anyone
might see

Nights  
we spent were
                      hushed 
and quiet
                hidden
and still

You
kept me
             secret
and called it
                    love
and I
how I
         allowed
                      you
                            to
take the intimacies
offered, the confidences
certain and
                  crush
them in 
            tender
hands I  longed
                         to
                             trust
Hands that rested
                            easily
upon my shoulders
as laughter wrapped us
                                     warm
in Sunday night banality
                                       brows to be plucked
                                       claws to be trimmed
                                       bags to be packed

as though Monday
                             too
would be Ours

And yet
You
never wrote
for me

You
never wrote 
for me

At least
not where
               anyone
               Anyone
might see

© s rogers 2008

2 thoughts on “In the Mirror

  1. malcolmjames says:

    And you so clearly deserve to be written for.

  2. catgem says:

    I don’t know about that, malcolm… but I thank you for thinking so… and especially for taking the time to read and comment.

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