The Small Hours
There’s the taste of truth in a coffee cup
Steam rising gently and sweet.
I am sitting with blankets and thoughts wrapped up
In the darkness where both of us meet.
It’s the small hours where I hear you close
When night fades softly to dawn.
We keep talking and reaching, gravity shows
In our rooms with the curtains drawn.
The taste of coffee reminds me now
Of futures that only can be
...
Wednesday 9th November 2016 3:52 pm
Recent Comments
David RL Moore on EVEN THE OLIVES ARE BLEEDING
2 hours ago
Bre Mae on Love & nature
5 hours ago
Auracle on Spinocracy – The Art of the Fall*
7 hours ago
Auracle on I SUPPORT GENOCIDE ACTION I OPPOSE PALESTINE ACTION
8 hours ago
Auracle on Unlearning...
8 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on I.D.F.
10 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on I SUPPORT GENOCIDE ACTION I OPPOSE PALESTINE ACTION
19 hours ago
David RL Moore on Beirut 96.jpg
20 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Slowed down observations
20 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Recipe for Disaster
20 hours ago