Late

I tend to be late –
but so do you –

late in saying something
like I love you

We both take our time
to let emotions seep
through thought –

before realization,
for verification

We seem to be
inevitably late
at alternating times,

hardly ever meeting
in mind, in love

Too late…

– Niebla

Too true and for Sunday Scribblings’ Late.

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About niebla

I wish to remain clear of details. My words shall lift the veil.
This entry was posted in Despair, Life, Literature, Love, Poetry, Words. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Late

  1. devil mood says:

    Oh, hope it’s not too late.
    You did that decrescendo so well!

  2. B. Roan says:

    Lovely poem. I hope it isn’t too late either.

  3. tumblewords says:

    Ah, it sure seems like it works that way sometimes. Nicely written!

  4. You hit on a common truism. Many find it hard to say I love you. I like the style and brevity in your poem.

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