poetry

How to Steal the Sun

I fashioned her a heartstring harness
and asked her to jump
and she did –
into the beds
of prettier men.

I asked her once more.
and she did –
but this time,
onto a plane,
unravelling the gossamer
as it flew.

But I remember –

how she had
plucked
the sun,
as if it were some shiny fruit,
and,
caressing it,
showed me
that it didn’t have to burn;

it was poignant
and fleeting –
like her smell,
which had refused to stain my sheets
and clothes.

She left,
promising
to love me tomorrow,

and when she did,

I forgot –
how tomorrow would come around,
with the sun
sitting snug in her back pocket?

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3 thoughts on “How to Steal the Sun

  1. Pingback: How to Steal the Sun – island towards which we swim

  2. Pingback: How to Steal the Sun – misterkaki

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