Nowadays

September 20, 2017

Profusion of poems lives on.
In your exile words issue their

ubiquity. My lips curl with

familiar and some not so

familiar nouns and adjectives

in a way to gatecrash our get-

togethers. Trail of your smell

tranquilizes me. The filiform

from lavishness of communing

ties you in safe colors, colors

that quieten. I’m done with real

people. Poltergeists keep me

pepped-up. 

Tags:

Share on Facebook
Share on Twitter
Please reload

RECENT POSTS:

June 30, 2019

June 29, 2019

June 27, 2019

June 26, 2019

Please reload