Wednesday, March 7

O, What

O,
what, it all sparkles & drowns?
comes apart from loosened mind &
all of it
smothered in black

treacle—tenderness
dying
; & my

nightmare’d sleep killing these
sad
hours.

1 comment:

  1. The poetry's still my favorite. But damn, how I love the way you describe things.

    ReplyDelete

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