Those Klimpts

Romantic Poetry

It is a simple gesture...
The chair left, door side
a touch, the lips
a lunch
to unfold a truth
that must be told.

A heart that flutters
deep within the belly,
a light in the diaphanous eye.

In the mechanism of the day,
each will go out of their way...
Just to steal a glimpse
And later go on and on
about "Those Klimpts".

Sitting by the fireside
it is not just you
or I.

Thank you.