this is home

How quietly loves pass you by,
Their names – moonless nights
killing postcoital glow.
How gravely love moulds to hate
or apathy,
mixing into the summer air,
uttering their names,
holding onto that fire
Driving fast,
somewhere past
a streetcar named desire,
Burning through memories
Ash scattering ash
You stop to breathe.
You’re not alone.
You know I’m here
And this is home.

6 responses to “this is home

  1. moondustwriter

    how sad for love as it turns the corner to apathy or hate
    love can become so painful

    love you sweet one

  2. Stunning images – especially the 4th stanza… excellent!

  3. sometimes i feel like i reside in the in-between.. the place between now and the past, love and loss, apathy and passion.. that has become home because it’s so hard going back and forth, trading one for the other and back again.. sometimes grey feels so good.

  4. i know exactly what you mean. and sometimes i’m like that too, but it doesn’t feel right sleeping in some sort of grey mirage for ever and ever. it’s temporary. and this is home :)


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