a poem by Dom Conlon

Carry the kiss back to her
unplant it unthink it bury it
in the glass coffin of your desire.

Love will never wait wolf-like
in the skin of another
or growl at its own reflection.

Let it lie, sleeping. Let it wake,
yawning, with the sun.
Or let it die, unnamed.



Dom Conlon lives mostly in a world of giants and new born stars where he writes for children on his website, http://www.inkology.co.uk. He has published two picture books and one book of poetry, in addition to a number of ebooks. Occasionally he puts on a tie and writes for adults, albeit strange ones like you. He can be followed on Twitter @headfirst_dom.

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