“On Reading a Poem from an Old Lover”
Pages yellow with age
ink that has turned brown(ish black)
I read the words that youwrote
when Passion.
took your delicate fingers (that I had held so softly)
you never knew that I’d chosen you (for always)
are clasped in hers
and the golden ring of a
thousand broken (hearts)
promises
drowns out the din of what
might
have been.
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