Tuesday, 19 March 2013

Writing in Bars with Boys

Pen, paper.
Bar, Band.
Pot of Tea; English Breakfast. 
Words seem to come
He plays my song. 
A smile paints my lips. 
His words eclipse 
those wandering 
in my mind. 
My thoughts
inky smudges
unfinished, unclear.
Avoiding, over-thinking. 
Paralysed by temptation.
Lost in his eyes.
Drowning in my cup of tea.

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