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Apricot Jam MAG
August 9, 2012
I slather my sorrow in apricot jam,
Certain that this breakfast together will
be our last.
I say nothing, you say less.
I stand to go, biting my lip and breathing silent apologies.
But you beckon me closer,
And as you kiss me, I feel jam trickling down my fingers
And I feel the pulse of your mercy.
© Nicole B., Newcastle, WA
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"My hobbies include editing my life story, hiding behind metaphors & trying to convince my shadow that I'm someone worth following." - Rudy Francisco