You were the smell of kerosene and charred wood soaked with too much rain.
Caught between the sea and me
someplace damp and secret.
Briny sea air and dreadlocked hair
faces overcast by moonlight.
I lost you like I lose track of time.
An hourglass fixed in one place -
Bereft of movement and second chances -
To start again.
YOU ARE READING
When to Say Goodbye
PoetryThere is no timeline for grief and handling loss. This book has been written for that reason, and to show that every life is impressionable on another.
