Erotic Poetryweekends without her
the lazy hours pass quickly
they leave a sense of pity
the alarm clock will soon announce
the bluish monday morning
we never spend saturday or sunday together
there is perhaps no need
'cos i am her weekend
in the middle of the week
slow hours pass fast
when there is no one to give them a meaning
cold drafts are reigning in the empty heart and mind
but that will also pass quickly
Wlodzimierz Holsztynski ©
1981
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