Poetry — 12 November 2013


Jude Conlee

thumbnail image by  Doug Wheller , Creative Commons

It’s late and I’m a million feelings and seeing
you leave is making me want to laugh
or cry, whichever looks most like the
emotions’ average

because it’s night finally, night between
you and me

the kind of night that ends with you
saying “goodbye” and me knowing
you’d mean “’til we meet again” but
you didn’t want to lie.

Every feeling is bigger when it’s dark
out and you are the sun.


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