Night drifts closer
still but not the one
you hoped for
waiting all along
for you to meet it
face to face
these thorns of graceless
words catch at
your fingertips your tongue
the ones that fell
like snowflakes have
all melted away remember
where the lilacs grew
you left him there maybe
their drowsy scent
is what you miss
(c) 2019, by Hannah Six
Image: Pixabay
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