The tip of your finger
tickles my upturned palm
I wake, a momentary amnesiac.
The morning stamps
through my head
kicking my brain into remembrance.
Your features fall into place
and a groan escapes my mouth
before I can restrain it.
I stretch my lips into
a caricature of a smile
and mime ‘good morning’
Dropping my eyelids
over my disillusion
before you even notice it’s there.
I love you, you feel secure,
so you should be…
It’s not your fault I need more
©
Copyright
VMM2008
Comments
tamara (not verified) | October 19, 2008 - 01:43
This is excellent,the sensation of the poem as a whole is amazing.Lynne.x
Silver Spun Sand | October 19, 2008 - 07:59
I agree wholeheartedly with Tamara. Good stuff, as usual, Val:-)
Tina xx
Bradene | October 19, 2008 - 10:00
Thanks Lynne, I'm happy you like this one, it's one of my fav's and one I am proud of as it has been published in Voices from the Web.Thanks for reading. Love Val x
Bradene | October 19, 2008 - 10:00
Again thank you Tina glad you enjoyed the read. Val x