up and stood against a bare backdrop
with a steamy thigh high smile
colored in by context, style, gums and diction--
only remembering the puke paisley dreams of the sun settled
on the edge of where his vision stretched--
damn curved world--
cursed, and now still sick with worry.
please, we plead,
give me a second day to sort the honey from the tea
and compute all this
disorienting nonsense
No comments:
Post a Comment