Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Tita Halaman Jan 2018
Henceforth all shameful outbursts
Thenceforward my final death
Jilt, she made me play with fire
Wooed by appalling words she said

She, i ween, is no beautiful
She, i ween, is no enchanting
Yet, she is her dreamer, she is her art
Ergo since farewell, once deaf harked

After the dreamer, after the art
Sniffer cheated, sinner starved
Naked I mourned, naked I yowled
Lost faith from Agave, still fresh from the yard
Tita Halaman Jan 2018
Loosened strips, unfastened cords
Cloaked tawny petals you constantly hold
Eight Thirteen, by the park
Heading to Montevista, you showed your art

Oh crippled young wishful thinker
An acquaintance from her alter ego
You taste like sea and you glint like gold
You cried an ocean yet never left her floored

Come closer fake schuyler, come closer...
Stains from my cheek, the briny tang of Montevista
Smears from my agony, your sweet smell like tequila
Who killed this fondness? Who ruined this mania?
Answer me, answer me, Montevista!

— The End —