Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2015
I was on my back.
His head moved away, downward,
clearing my line of sight;
I looked with wonder-
more of disbelief-
at a leaf held by the ceiling.
I felt him dig,
“Are you inserting yourself?”
“Just the finger. Look.”
Inklips
Written by
Inklips
397
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems