Greg Beattie


When I Am Far Away

When I am far away I will remember
The weight on my chest of your falling hair
The oranges in the blue bowl and on your lips
The grace of your hand fastening, unfastening
The superfluity of the last song, hanging in the air.

When I am far away I will fill with you
Whenever the scent of citrus wafts by
Or a dark-haired woman sways against her lover

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