Murphy’s Law by Maria Fokas / Photograph by Martin Hanley

And though it seemed that anything could go wrong,

That everything would go wrong

He looked into my eyes, and claimed he saw lines of red in the brown

He said hazel, I said brown . . .

He counted my smiles, and spoke of inspiration

He asked me; where inspiration comes from

 – No, not from the Gods, I said,

But from a painful longing that cannot be marked

Where touch is absent, and words feel mercy,

And comfort never comes too soon

© Maria Fokas 2014