Today's poem is by Piero Toto

1992
       

that weakness coming home
to lo-fi & choked guitars
sleepless on a first kiss
blushingly drawn to lust

they found us
in folds of language
our teen years a synonym
for we weren't

my father in the kitchen gasps
for money?
with another man?
his table and flowers stolen
only words for shelter

how cruel this snow
exposing the ice
in fingers & frost
like branches awaiting the snap

suddenly the day breaks
to barter a name for closure
it says we are our own

now everything's ablaze

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Copyright © 2024 Piero Toto All rights reserved
from Poetry London
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission