Monday, May 19, 2025

Driftwood 2015

 


It is as if I have never kissed before, the truth of it off my lips, thick as honey, much more sweet, lingering all this time later so, I still taste it when it rains, a kiss I can't forget or relive as I stand on a beach and stare out at the sea so remote, lost in the waves, being here but not still in my head, where I was when it happened, a storm still raging inside of me, making me wish again I might get back, only I am like a piece of driftwood with no control over where I am or where I go only where I have been

 


email to Al Sullivan

No comments:

Post a Comment