Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2019
drinking an absolute, he drips and seethes
what once might have been has only been until now

no longer an absolute

little steps by little feet in this aching echo of a place

never was an absolute

i ate it all before he came up and pawed at me, always rubbing the wrong way somehow

i could still be the fly in the cathedral, a tiny buzz in a world of echo
soak
Written by
soak  23/torontoish
(23/torontoish)   
229
       ---, Rogues Gallery, BLT, --- and Bogdan Dragos
Please log in to view and add comments on poems