December 2008

Rotting Peaches & And Your Inner-City Smell

Each day passes and fruit just falls form the branches.

Peaches to the ground,

Rotting on the ground.

My lavender-soaked world

Withers away under toxic rains

From your hidden inner-city tears.

I can still smell it in the clothes of yours that I kept.

It brings a sigh to my lips

And a swift exhale of frustration

As I’m once again reminded that even when I was with you,

I was always without you.