Leather Bound

Richard Booth's bookshop

Richard Booth’s Bookshop in Hay

We met on a shelf
between RS and Hughes,
I liked your shoes but later
found they were boots,
their butterscotch
tan leather cuffs
discreetly concealed
beneath wintered denim.

Smooth, easily removed,
they sat obediently
in right angled hush
at the foot of our borrowed bed,
their suppleness echoed
in the soft scuff of your hands
as you deciphered the Braille
of my unravelling spine.


Leave a comment

Filed under Free Verse, Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s