She grabs
her
triangle
for
a gyrate.
The end product
is
but a forced
gem
to sparkle.
Spoons to
lick
Spoons to
pour
Limit-
the
hidden clown
A stop
and
she figures
her
futile vertex.
Each point
reflected
twice.
Birth, desire
& death
in consecutive
origins.
A dead life.
Gems are but
stones.
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 5:22 PM UTC
She grabs
her
triangle
for
a gyrate.
The end product
is
but a forced
gem
to sparkle.
Spoons to
lick
Spoons to
pour
Limit-
the
hidden clown
A stop
and
she figures
her
futile vertex.
Each point
reflected
twice.
Birth, desire
& death
in consecutive
origins.
A dead life.
Gems are but
stones.
Request permission to use this poem