This Man, and I My eyes, and the bags beneath them Stare at his silhouette Down the hall and into the kitchen Lit with early morning light. The air, silent, besides the padding of My bare feet, down antique floors. Until he greets me, “Coffee?” His hand cradles a warm mug, But before I can accept, I flip the switch, and everything stops. The world at still, but I, Who runs to him-- not the him with mug in hand-- Another man One I find after traipsing through streets filled with people, All of them still, until, I open the cool metal door, my eyes open wide And stare into his. This other man, and I Press our lips together, then apart, Only to meet again. We walk side by side, hand in hand. In the warm, evening city with buildings lined in dark, We glance at them, until again, The touch of lips between us. This other man, and I.
Discussion about this post
No posts


Loooove!!