London Poem: Day 214

19 March

If I skip a day,
That day is quickly forgotten,
Kicked into the deep annals
Of a mind preoccupied with the present.
The day is lost, and I have forgotten
Why I began –
Climb back in though,
To find what pushed me then,
What grabbed me, shaking everything out
Of the dark, to say: “This! This is it!”
But, that never happens because
I know, quietly, that it was
Subtly you.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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