The Lover’s Leap Lies in Pieces


sonnets of souls

separated by space –

sound out

in that place

between

where the

breath of angels

cool in divine

circumstance

and timekeepers

stand reticent

by gates

holding back fate

reluctantly

to

people parted

by

blunt

location

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Time Has A Black Sense Of Humour


My last breath will be spent-

On a wondrous sentence-

My last words will be profound…

But on the day,

A cough blocked out,

The sound,

Of my exquisite farewell–

Time’s black humour…