Kind Of Love Poem
there is the way
you sleep soundly
by the window with
the moon haphazard
crawling in between
the blinds. I asked you
before falling off to
sleep to please close
them “I can’t sleep
otherwise” I told you
“it’s too bright”, now
I can’t close them, it
would mean waking
the dead, instead I
am looking at old
pictures from the time
you told me, this
wasn’t a forever kind
of thing, now I’m
turning off the light
pulling up the covers
to your chin, thinking
irony, thinking another
February come and
gone, thinking
thinking.
poem by Ben Paynter
Added by Poetry Lover
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