Sentence

I thought I had made it quite obvious what this poem is about, but some people take very different things from it. Thoughts? 

Concrete clad minds take in the  view of faces. 

Eyes pass words that can't be said

Touches say words previously dead, 

While heads fling to admire the few embraces. 

'Half-empty' and 'drained' sit face to head

While scars are discovered 

And forgotten memories recovered 

Then like thirty years ago it's a kiss goodbye and back to bed. 

Drop Out

This is one of the most recent poems I have  written. I wrote it objectively, based on other people's situations. It has suddenly become very relevant to me. I love it when that happens. 


My breath on the window
Your presence on my map
My hands placed so lightly
So far from your lap.

Your face like an image
On my small TV screen
My books and old papers
In your bedsit, so clean

My decision on my conscience
Your body in her bed
My finger on the call button
Your tears not yet shed

Your soft voice
My loss
Your kindness
My cost.