Her Way Back

She found her way back
and let him in
again.

No recollection of shutting him out.
Impossible.
Not been here for absolutely ages.
Months actually.
Days stretching out
and over.

But she floated back in.
She smiled
as she
remembered him.

Simon Hasn't Tweeted

'Simon hasn't tweeted,' the bald egg said.
No words at all
from the poet's head.

Serial killers and batman have been put to bed,
slipped under the covers
tired from being read.

Simon hasn't tweeted; he's as silent
as
the
dead.

When will the words fall
out of his head?

Demanding

'Send me your email address too', he said.

Invitation

I have been invited for an evening of fun next Thursday, by Blue. I know, if I accept, I will not be able to walk the next day and I will ache.
And ache.
But it's been so long.
So very long since I felt anything of lust of desire.

Last August.

It's a very long time since last August.

It's been A While

'Yes, it has indeed,' she murmured.
A while since she was held.
Consumed.

It's been a while since her legs ached.
Since her arms were wrapped
around...

It's been a while.

She still feels
the need.

She will wait.
Want
and
wait.

Resuming

...where I left off.

Yet it's a calmer life.
A life without.
A life in need.

A life I enjoy, yet despise.

The memories are distant
...grey
So many miles away.

I will resume.
Connect the sentence,
link the ink.