Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
a troubled little wisp of waxy death   punches from my lips (is it the exhaust   from many thriving microorganisms ?) there it is   a clearly visible tiny cloud formation (is this an indication?... the breaking down my over ripened form ?) married also is its appearance  in the bathroom mirror (confirmation that   it is no illusion) i was quite casual about the event (thank you) but not enough               to stop me noting it here ; call it   'the death weather report' it shall be journaled further i already feel observed    as though by some bored student mortician
0
Feb 17, 2024
Feb 17, 2024 at 9:57 PM UTC
cirrus
a troubled little wisp of waxy death   punches from my lips (is it the exhaust   from many thriving microorganisms ?) there it is   a clearly visible tiny cloud formation (is this an indication?... the breaking down my over ripened form ?) married also is its appearance  in the bathroom mirror (confirmation that   it is no illusion) i was quite casual about the event (thank you) but not enough               to stop me noting it here ; call it   'the death weather report' it shall be journaled further i already feel observed    as though by some bored student mortician
neth-jones
Written by
Feb 17, 2024
Feb 17, 2024 at 9:57 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem