Above the dripping darkness
Of my black hair
The same hair your hands
Got lost in
Puffed out circles of Marlboro smoke
Cloudy, like the thoughts
Of yesterday's love making
And in a room
Stale now, with leftover smoke
And fragmented conversation
That smell like stagnated water
From a vase with last week's flowers
I return to making vows
Of breaking old tired habits
That no longer have a place
In this tiny capsule of a home life
I, not long ago decorated
With pictures of a purposeful union
Habits of all kinds are quite difficult to let go. Nicely detailed and a great description
Very true of many men as well as women. Why people behave this way? You drive at the point straight forward. Nicely crafted in to a poem. I enjoyed. I rate it high.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very meditative. Poignant and reflective. I am drawn in to the circle of dissipated smoke, to listen closer and hope I hear more.... :)