Better
Thomas Crandles
I’m gathering dust again.
Ardent love letter, I’m not stirred.
I am now patient for your return.
I’ve loved better.
Afternoons with quick descents.
I am estranged and I leisurely forget.
I’ve loved better.
I’m gathering dust again.
I will start breathing, I will see.
When this street leads to a dream where love is better.
The salt in my sea, recurring theme.
Lifeless but able to lazily forget that life feels better.
I’m gathering dust again.