The day I kissed you
I tasted
your pastiche heart.
The frothy tang of
pineapple juice gone stale,
from the day you were too lazy
to get out of bed.
Freshly pressed newspaper smell
rolled up, lying at your doorstep.
Crinkles in your bed sheet.
The shape of you sleeping.
Curled toes on a cold floor
after that long sleep you had.
Smattering of instant coffee
on your kitchen counter.
That pesto stain from
the dinner date down town.
Everything made up
Your pastiche heart.
There were also
certain things that
your pastiche heart
was not made of.
It was overcrowded.
So all I left behind
was some glue
to hold together
Your Pastiche Heart.
I tasted
your pastiche heart.
The frothy tang of
pineapple juice gone stale,
from the day you were too lazy
to get out of bed.
Freshly pressed newspaper smell
rolled up, lying at your doorstep.
Crinkles in your bed sheet.
The shape of you sleeping.
Curled toes on a cold floor
after that long sleep you had.
Smattering of instant coffee
on your kitchen counter.
That pesto stain from
the dinner date down town.
Everything made up
Your pastiche heart.
There were also
certain things that
your pastiche heart
was not made of.
It was overcrowded.
So all I left behind
was some glue
to hold together
Your Pastiche Heart.
1 comment:
the fragmented imagery showing intimacy without trying to hard and the blank verse very well suited with the general flow. i like this!
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