Photo #1

The table smelled of oak and dust
The plant rotting in the vase
Life so fragile
Life so simple
It's frightening
 
Wood, Lovely wood

In the corner, spilled boxes
Withering glances, strewn flesh
Dust and pistle and
dried up feelings,
Why he came and when she
went
monochrome their feelings,
Raged once and banked again
Make the simple twist
the twisted simple. I ask
she gave
Once questioned forever left.
Those wooden strictures, those scaffolded holes
St Andrews cross He brought
His sueded ones she wore
against the crossed timber
And wood does that to Me
He said
Everytime.
 
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