midafternoon
has proven impossible
to distillate on anything at all…
save the indiscriminate remembrances
of moments…
where spirits
became perceptibly bright
where librettos slinked
through fissures in composure
and glances met with gasp for air
only now, such excursions
seem foolhardy upon appraisal
and yet
were i permitted to relive
a single of such moments…
not a moment’s consideration
would be needed
~csr
"glances met with gasp for air" is a very pretty phrase... I really like it.
ReplyDeletethnk you annabel
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