I miss you too.
Something old is broken,
nobodys in hell.
Sometimes I kiss strangers,
sometimes no one speaks.
Today in fact
its raining. I go out on the lawn.
Its such a tiny garden,
like a photo of a pool.
I am cold,
are you?
Sometimes we go dancing,
cars follow us back home.
Today the quiet
slams down
gently, like drizzled
lightning,
leafless trees.
Its all so tidy,
a fire in the living room,
a rug from Greece,
Persian rugs and pillows,
and in the kitchen,
the light
fogged with windows.
Tidy
written byRalph Angel
© Ralph Angel