Almost

His words a caress

Upon her neck,

She did not turn �"

A beautiful mess,

Never to learn, but

Quick to forget.

How many hands

Had passed since

She sat

Cross legged,

And wept.

The roof top beneath;

Appealingly jagged

Against her skin,

Like the heart

He had torn.

Be gone!

Allow one to mourn,

And question

The moon,

The waves;
and those strangers below

In childish tears

In childish tones

Does anybody know?

‘Why is love lost?’…

She waits;

Along with his ghost,

One lover in woe;

The other almost.