Smacking me
In a gleaming fissure
You are gush and spout of me,
As you would have
Thought juice,
Raw of firewood trunk,
Lilac petals dripping
You suture my words
Inside your
Sun-hat for afterward,
A silk tattering
You swathe your mouth
When you chortle, the end
Of the shooter having
Shattered the teeth
And skeleton
Of the past
You cover my mouth
With your
Mouth in the tip of the room,
Tender bauble of lattice,
Button
You are a silhouette stretch
Of brown birds in the dooryard
We are shy of one another
Since the bold patch
You are the tree
And the bashful birds
Roosting, you are the opening
Woods
I am an outbreak
Of plum petals,
Always the lilac blooming,
Lavender periwinkle
By the path you are the lad
Devoid of aside
I am the lass devoid of
No comments:
Post a Comment