Lying on the floor
I cleaned it before
yes, two weeks ago
it’s so worth it, though
I can see new things
the ceiling’s higher
surely that’s a given
I was forgiven
she told me not to
do it again; I
agreed but I did it
again; I couldn’t
desist; it was too
difficult to take
her handbag was hell
I find everything
she said; it’s perfect
for me; don’t touch it
again; of course, I
did; I love her too
much; she’s perfect for
me; I thanked my luck
I thanked her a lot
her bag’s a nightmare
I cleaned, organised
it looks like new; I
sympathise; I could
I don’t; I won’t; I
disagree with her
from the floor, I can
also see her eyes
I could die for her
eyes; the rest of her
too; that’s a given
they looked different
from the floor, her breasts
majestic like breasts
pieces of heaven
falling all over
my being; staying
I could have died there
on that beautiful
dirty floor; I’m still
alive for now; I
don’t know my fate; she’ll
see her bag again
it’s fine; she’ll survive
she knows that I do
it for her love; I
will always love her
she knew it before
she died; I love her
the dirty floor at
night; it’s refreshing
Where is my bag?
About the Creator
Patrick M. Ohana
A medical writer who reads and writes fiction and some nonfiction, although the latter may appear at times like the former. Most of my pieces (over 2,200) are or will be available on Shakespeare's Shoes.
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Comments (1)
This is a very nice poem, but it doesn’t follow the challenge requirements of each line being from a separate conversationalist… Person 1 speaks, Person 2 speaks.. Person 1 1 speaks, Person 2 speaks .. and so on in conversational form. But, I like it. Good job of writing.