Archive-name: Poetry/lines.txt

Archive-author: Ariel Witch

Archive-title: Lines

     


 You lean over me

 to reach your cigarettes

 on the nightstand,

 pausing to touch my cheek

 (an afterthought, really-

 -a cigarette is first in mind)

 In the flare of the match

 I see your face

 tenderly lined

 with years of living

 and loving.

 Perhaps

 someday I too

 will be written on your face

 and someone else will read it

 and know me.


--

ÿ