The Dark Of Part-Time Lovers Poem by David Nelson Bradsher
The Dark Of Part-Time Lovers
At the soft juncture of the dawn,
my yawn-and-stretch completes
a canvassing of flannel sheets
to find that she has gone.
She loved me well, but wouldn’t stay
to watch the darkness die;
preserving, thus, that she and I
are strangers in the day,
who reacquaint within the night
as if amnesiacs
who melt like pools of heated wax
that moats the candlelight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/18/2024 10:25:22 PM # 1.0.0.1119
