the first of August

today we were a blue moon

to the left the river whispered the life of Autumn,
and on our right the laughter of bleeding banana men
guarded a London pub.

but the air was a warm breath and
our feet treaded not on cobblestone street
so again we waltzed between the unfamiliar
and humidity, the latter a river boat nudging
brown waves against the rocks.

when we navigated around the galloping children
i dared not tell you this,
but not being in blue was not the
only conscious decision made. as
my right arm swung against the breeze from your left
i pulled it across the front – line 4, page 56
Part II: Avoidant Behaviour.

but today, despite the blue shield against my chest
the blasphemous thought seeped through.
something in your voice seemed to suggest
that i might have been wrong.
perhaps fingers tie themselves down,
perhaps punctuation enjoys indolence
and words are sparse,
perhaps you truly are master of deception,
but whatever the perhaps

today we were a blue moon.
you were more blue;
and i was more of a moon


(i’m sorry, i’m trying to ease /with no ease at all/ my way back into writing after months, so my writing is absolute crap and dry right now. also, there’s a high chance my blog might go into relapse again – i think i’m challenging myself as to how long i dare to leave it public.)


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