Of course...
I still think of you
Embedded in my marrow
are the syrupy tones
of your coiled promises
and blended truths
You mouse away with
mounded morsels of
no vital importance
I still think of you
Binging on a freshly
green heart that was
placed at your feet,
You turn over the pith
...gone is its toothsome
unripened essence
a substantial slab
I will always
think of you
...of course.
Posts
It is work like this, which sadly does not come along very often, that makes me want to put down my pen, and stop hitting the keys. Brava!
ReplyDelete