Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Jan 2021 Coco Densmore
telumne
somewhere i have a mouth and
in that mouth are teeth that
bite and hurt me
in my softer spots like
my lips and fingers and
my heart i would
take a bite out of it
if i could
The white flowers
will not arrive
by stallion, nor
by lightning.

The stolid courier
will knock, a door
swinging; a suitable
place prepared.

In the cold district,
the exploded heads
of trees look back at me:
why didn't I save them?

Even the sun seems lopped.
But in the face of it
I will stand, have coffee,
& be reminded of you.

It's 6:30, and the sky
turns a spoiled milk shade
before tripping
in its hurry to arrive.

— The End —