I
run
catch the 91
sit. read brontë.
yonge/finch
take the subway
south to bloor
sit. read, but really daydream about him.
bloor/yonge
eastbound
sit. forget to read. count the minutes till
waiting for the 12
kingston road next stop
book in backpack. his lips greet mine
everything missing
is whole again
2 comments:
Best poem ever. What a zinger at the end. I love it!
Love your apparent muse,
MJG
XOX
Interesting enough, I debated including the ending! However, in the end (pun? Ha-ha), I decided to just spill the beans and be truthful… so I included it in my final draft.
Much thanks baby!
And yes. You are the best muse. EVER.
Happily yours,
Melissa
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