10.10.19

Coconut shells

Glazed

Glided in gold

Given in goodbyes.

Etched

Their lacquered depths

And chipped edges

Reflect your clumsy hand

Your dry humour.

Somewhere

Bundled and bound

In the abyss called closet

Are my letters.

There

Pages peppered

My wit, the quick whip

Of my tongue, temper flaring

Deep, down, the dark depths

Hidden

Between

Pages, my heart sleeps.

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