For A Woman With No Sixth Sense - Poem by jay Arr
That pricking you never felt under your thumbs,
was me papering over the crack in our lives
with old love letters, stuck with words
stolen from the tip of your tongue.
And those painful poems
were folded into
failed to rise
it was not that breeze,
but my lips brushing yours,
which gently blew the fleet out to sea.
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