The Slow Reaction Process

In sleep, you would lay 
   at my feet,

So I would leave bed,

To shimmy under your breast, 

   and stay there; coddled, warm, spilling through exceptional.

We used to light up, creating our worlds.

These days, the moon 

   sulks about

in strained hollow shifts,

And the sun always stays 

   behind bars. 


One thought on “The Slow Reaction Process

  1. It is so often the ends that I love the best. As though you save your very best for the last stanza.

    These days the moon sulks about
    In strained, hollow shifts,
    and the sun always stays behind bars.



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