Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Dog-pile Days

It's hard to accept that we are never going back
To the dog-pile carefree comfort of
Each other's bodies and laughter
Unreserved enthusiasm, unrestrained bluster
Secrets unfolded, examined, accepted.
In retrospect we are all an eternal summer,
A Kinkade cottage I wish to climb in and stay
But reality shows how fragmented we've become
Too betrayed and scarred to ever be the same.

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