My Regrets 1.01 Poem by A Waltz For Zizi
My Regrets 1.01
Your letter is unkind to me.
You hurry to the end, afraid
I might do things to harm you,
that I would press my fingers
on your words and weigh you down.
I am no more than a cripple.
I have no arms to harm you
to touch you. I have only
my tongue and my lips.
I borrow arms and legs
from others to write you
and send you my regrets.
Monday, July 4, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: love
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5/7/2024 2:31:31 PM # 1.0.0.1119
