Darling (poetry)

His senses perk
to the smell of green grass
in a fertile garden, the light
of a broad path made plain,
a promising crack in the wall,
and the laughter
of better women echoing.

The one beside him mercifully
slips his fingers.

The one beside him mercifully
speaks.

Leave me a kiss for my collection,
here in the tender crook of my arm,
and remember me sometimes
that I was your Darling
in the dead and lonely place.

-M. Ashley

2 thoughts on “Darling (poetry)

  1. Pulled in by the ache of feeling the “laughter of better women echoing”I let out an audible “oh!” when I got to this line: “Leave me a kiss for my collection.” Brilliant.

    Like

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