All the working class lovers leaving their lovers' warm beds,
meeting the cold air.
Getting on the train above Kensington Avenue.
Watching the landscape of rooftops and icy streets, below.
Quiet, grey skies and abandoned buildings becoming nature.
Her warm body covered by a winter coat,
her flesh just recently caressed.
She will ride the train, she will sit next to strangers
She will enter the day with a cold body & chapped lips
Her neck was just kissed, her thighs caressed.
The skin on both were warm & soft
She doesn't look happy, but she might be.
1 comment:
You are an amazing poet. You should be published. Great work.
beneaththeelmtree.blogspot.com.
Post a Comment