Long Days

Long Days




Long days.  Night slithers through

the door and I reach for you. 

I believe in the wisp of 

twilight, the smell of dope 

and your arm around my 

shoulder. The cross we bear. 


The map of night is written

and I must go.  Never, the

tears.  I stare at your mouth. 

We kiss the chalice of each

others love.  The mass of

yesterday sanctified a long

litany of love unanswered. 


I hate the sound of the bells.  

I am brought to my knees. An old woman genuflects, A tear falls. 

I confess my sins but never

you.  


You, you belong to the 

dusking dreams.  


Caroline Shank 

5.26.21




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