There is a hidden warmth in you
you do not show to others
and it pulls me under
like quick sand.
Or maybe it is the movement
of the sands that embalms
my body and carves out a
sinking place for it.
Or quite possibly the sands
are a prison holding my
body as it lays me down
waiting to drown as
the wicked seas overwhelm.
Or maybe I am at the helm,
I am sitting out far inside
the seas, I am waiting to
be brought ashore
I am waiting
Or I wait no more.
I am not quite sure.
Tickle your toes. . .
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there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
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In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but... -
nipped at the ankles which is how I wander through life sometimes I must be pushed through a door finally opened after years of knock...
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and now that the anger is gone there may be a few more glimpses like looking out of the window through a thin veil of silk. a look in...
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A woman's stance feet parted so that like a breezy window the mantle opened slightly lets in curves of salty air- but here there is no, ...
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motionless sap. ogling your shadow, you have much thinking to do. has the potassium kicked you in the arse yet-and got you going? you a...
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secret fancies don't really bother me, alright? but know that once you tell me I become either like a turtle and snap my smile...
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RICK: Hey Rick? DICK: Yea, Dick? RICK: See that sky roll on by? (points) DICK: ...Oh, my... RICK: Don't i-t'almost makes yer wanner.... -
July 9th i feel like running again. it's either that or swimming in a valley of tears. July 10th you couldn't tell by looking at us,...
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two squinting painted eyes looking solemn on a leathery face. this knight of the golden age has a 20 gallon bucket of a hat atop his slicked...
Poets United Contributor
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