My Beloved Is Mine And I Am His
Our future
just beyond reach
of the candlelight
somewhere in the dark
of this night
waiting for us
to be
the us we are
going to be.
The Future hold us
lightly in the palm
of its hand
just beyond reach
of the candlelight
somewhere in the dark
of this night
beside the turned inside-out
sock...scrunched up knickers on the floor
two pairs of jeans...a tee shirt and a tank top.
The Future
(our future)
waits for us.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
Added by Poetry Lover
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