Soft flesh flowers easily
tomato-red and over-ripe
to spill, in runnels,
a warm mirage.
Delusions
never reach
parched lips, but
taunt and I love
the torture enough
to lick up
the dust of this
wasteland.
At the gates of Eden,
I thirst,
a sinner barred
from forbidden fruit.
Jun 10, 2020
Jun 10, 2020 at 5:22 PM UTC
Soft flesh flowers easily
tomato-red and over-ripe
to spill, in runnels,
a warm mirage.
Delusions
never reach
parched lips, but
taunt and I love
the torture enough
to lick up
the dust of this
wasteland.
At the gates of Eden,
I thirst,
a sinner barred
from forbidden fruit.
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