A Postcard for the Lonely


Versions of Solitaire

The solitude we seek
grows wild, between
thorny words and amongst
steep hills. It wears
the promise of home
on its sleeve
and it never smiles.

Loneliness is not as welcoming.
It unfolds its claw
where you would least
expect it; you need not
search for it. In warm and clean-smelling
beds it blooms, colourless,
and kills the silence.

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