your departure has the weight of ash
no longer carrying your fate,
I return to my old shape
days hold their same complexities
but night has become startlingly simple –
rucked sheets, wooden bed-frame –
there’s no need to believe in anything else
how is it that you ever fit
inside these walls? inside this time?
I was never a promise –
my hands, my breasts, my breathing –
are sovereign and whole
© Sarah Whiteley
this poem pays exquisite attention … which is what great poems are supposed to do
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thank you so much ❤
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Lovely poem. With exquisite skill, you shared a deep and painful experience in a healed tone.
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what a lovely comment – thank you! 🙂
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How I like your way with words.
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as do I yours! many thanks!
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Thank you. Not been posting much recently though. Otherwise occupied.
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Beautiful ! 🙂
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cheers, Laz 🙂
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Beautiful……strong but heartbreaking…..is that possible? x
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Beautiful, a little sad, and well paced.
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