Saturday, 3 November 2018

Letters from Home

Today I knew where I was
when I woke. A brightness behind
my lids. The fire of morning
through the gauze of white curtain.
A fierce breeze straight from the mouths
of waves. Unstoppable. I'm sorry
for the things I've said. I know
you subtracted me long ago.
Please take me back. 

Infidelities by Sonia Farmer, p. 49