BLACK LEATHER JACKET

Your love

had too many edges

and sharp corners

My shins bore the bruises

of a love

that was fixed

and immobile

Your love was dark

and brooding

and nothing could grow

I left

my black leather jacket

on the hook

near the door

Put it on

if you get cold

If my perfume lingers

it’s just a ghost

I’m gone.

Kathy Keogh

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