Tina

The memory of Tina eludes me,
I remember her essence
but I have misplaced her face
in the multitude of almost-lovers

Still, when I close my eyes
I see her running through the field
of green, and yellow plants
where little boys kicked ball

She ‘tomed’ like a boy
but tender she was,
When it rained, she was wet
When we played, she would sweat

But I have misplaced her face
In the multitude of unloved-lovers

Tomi.O

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10 thoughts on “Tina

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