By Dale Parnell
᠅
felt like drowning in wool,
a thick, clumsy lump in my throat,
the strands
knotted
around my tongue
with all the begged chances
she wouldn’t hear.
It took ten minutes to pack her things -
Cherry-picked from the gallery we had curated
together,
and I realised
how little of herself
she had ever shared,
how little our lives
touched.
᠅
Dale Parnell lives in Staffordshire, England with his wife and their imaginary dog, Moriarty. Dale has had over twenty poems published, but he doesn't feel like he can call himself a poet. You can find Dale on Facebook and Instagram @shortfictionauthor.
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