Come back inside.
After you left,
the morning chill
snaked up
your phantom
outline
in our bed…
Is the mist
blurring your eyes,
veiling your head…
that you do not see
Iām trembling…
Come back inside.
After you left,
the morning chill
snaked up
your phantom
outline
in our bed…
Is the mist
blurring your eyes,
veiling your head…
that you do not see
Iām trembling…
THOUGHT PURGE 
I feel the loneliness. Oh the chill that comes when enveloping warmth takes wings…
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Thank you for reading Susie š
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A moment of vulnerability perhaps, maybe shedding the hubris? That’s what I was wondering about the title, till I read your reply to Hedgewitch. š Nicely done, Rajni.
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Thank you Vinay š
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Agree with Brendan on the title–it seems to me it refers to the speaker, and if so, how potent the image of that absence–a mist that eats away the outline of the other. Or so I read.
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Thank you Hedgewitch, the title does refer to the speaker’s state of mind, worried only about his own condition. I took the idea from the picture….one little bird alone in the mist until a bigger one comes to question her, hands on hip!
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This is perfect!
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“Hubris” is a good title for this, for there is a weight and freight and debt to this departure, this loss.
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Thank you Brendan
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A simply beautiful poem ~ and well crafted, not a spare word.
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Thank you š
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Sometimes loneliness creeps up on you even together with someone.
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“That you do not see I’m trembling”….such a great line.
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Thank you Sherry š
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The last two lines are deeply moving.
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Thank you Ara.
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So profound!
Beautifully penned š
Lots of love,
Sanaa
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Thank you Sanaa š
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So sensually vibrant. It touches the soft secrets of the heart.
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Thank you Gemma š
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I love the feel in your work–been poking around your blog a bit
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Thanks Audrey. Glad you’ve been reading my blog, do come visit again š
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