Viewport width =
April 17, 2016 | by  | in Creative Writing |
Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

fiction

you

in a forest

and me, faithful

at my desk, always

and while the sun doesn’t

beat my brow like it does yours—

on a day like today, i still always wear

sunscreen even though i don’t go outside

but when i saw your face we sat and spoke

for a while in the sun and you said the dog

wasn’t yours, it was a friends i wanted to

take it home with me and i wanted

to keep talking to you but i got

scared i don’t know if you

realised cause you kept

asking more, you

always ask

more and

i always

run

Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

About the Author ()

Comments are closed.

Recent posts

  1. An (im)possible dream: Living Wage for Vic Books
  2. Salient and VUW tussle over Official Information Act requests
  3. One Ocean
  4. Orphanage voluntourism a harmful exercise
  5. Interview with Grayson Gilmour
  6. Political Round Up
  7. A Town Like Alice — Nevil Shute
  8. Presidential Address
  9. Do You Ever Feel Like a Plastic Bag?
  10. Sport
1

Editor's Pick

In Which a Boy Leaves

: - SPONSORED - I’ve always been a fairly lucky kid. I essentially lucked out at birth, being born white, male, heterosexual, to a well off family. My life was never going to be particularly hard. And so my tale begins, with another stroke of sheer luck. After my girlfriend sugge