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He Was
November 10, 2016
Long loping strides and a lion smile
His angular palms resting on solid ribs
Perhaps I'll die alone
Crooked toes and black woolen socks
His eyes like roman silver
He isn't the only one
A game of war
His knee resting on hardwood
I will not settle for calamity
An avoiding gaze
His rigid jaw
My stitches ripple beneath frigid flesh
My mother says I'll romance again
There are three billion stars in our galaxy
Yet, I find patience to be a very long time
© Francesca Y., Robbinsdale, MN
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