04-30-2018, 06:39 AM
In the Moment
I realize that I’m coming
up with excuses to hold you
in my gaze. Ice melts
and I warm to the idea
of you, the present you—the one
who carries no consequences
or complications. I should look away,
but I realize that I’m coming
I realize that I’m coming
up with excuses to hold you
in my gaze. Ice melts
and I warm to the idea
of you, the present you—the one
who carries no consequences
or complications. I should look away,
but I realize that I’m coming
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson