Exit
Be kind, be kind..
close the doors on me,
gently..
You oiled those hinges
not long ago,
not to make
your modesty grate.
I will not knock again
and will prance away
in wind driven stupor,
like morning rain
on parched cobbles,
abandoning streets
to a steamy noon..
After I am lost
to your familiar warmth,
shut the doors on me
gently, gently..
16.04.2011