Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2019
Golden Hips.
Sealed with silver, molten edges.

Electrum lips.
Beckoned whips into searing sintered sedges.
I hate this poem The more folks that like this, the more basal of knowledge I find out what my audience is. My garbage 2 poem stanzas clearly appeal to those who love themselves but prefer not to read.
T R S
Written by
T R S  29/M
(29/M)   
  156
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems