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marebearPoems
Thoughts are clouded A dry tongue, a mildewed throat A whisper, a guttering tone The heat of stone, of concrete throne You sit there with mist With clenched squint What don’t you want to see? Does the heat sting? Let the calluses embrace, The skin of you feet Let the concrete feel, All the metallic bearings Smoke, ******* breathing, exhaling Whole, then dim, small, then glaring The roads feel cold Bristling wind, blowing empty air The fumes, lighter The spark, darker You can’t breath Can you?
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May 10
May 10, 2026 at 11:06 PM UTC
Taste and aroma since 1856
Thoughts are clouded A dry tongue, a mildewed throat A whisper, a guttering tone The heat of stone, of concrete throne You sit there with mist With clenched squint What don’t you want to see? Does the heat sting? Let the calluses embrace, The skin of you feet Let the concrete feel, All the metallic bearings Smoke, ******* breathing, exhaling Whole, then dim, small, then glaring The roads feel cold Bristling wind, blowing empty air The fumes, lighter The spark, darker You can’t breath Can you?
marebear
Written by
marebear
16/F/United States
May 10
May 10, 2026 at 11:06 PM UTC
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