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Quick Scribbles – 001


The insomniac night

Is my part-time lover.

It keeps me company,


through the dark, shallow stillness.

Jilted lovers of sleep

We share our tales of betrayal,

Weep and wet the wee hours

And when the first purple dawns

on the distant fringes,

Night quietly leaves.

In its sleep-deprived eyes,

There is a promise to return.

Yet again, when darkness falls

And all else goes to slumber,

We shall be awake.

Part- time lovers –

The night and I.


If these mute things around me

The golden window drape,

The snaking money plant,

The still water in the jar

The aging wall pieces

The myriad possessions –

If they were to speak one day,

Will they ask me questions,

Or will they have answers for mine?


Let us talk of betrayals tonight.

Who knows,

Somewhere in their midst,

As we rummage through the litter

We may stumble upon our

lost love.


With each breath exhaled,

I am losing connect

with the prescribed norms of loving.

The old rules seem odd and limiting.

Now I see you

In black granite and morning dew,

In the sneeze inspired by a seasonal ague

And in the anonymity of things

I pass by.

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