With
A heart
So fragile,
I kept
Bleeding
The
Verses that
Personified
Me gracefully,
And
Became my
Masterpieces

But,
They are
No more the
Words
That
You once

o w n e d

©poojakaundal
Apr032018

Tiny tawny girl next door,
Watch you scrub your kitchen floor.
Doggie down there, on all four:
I can’t wait ‘til you spill some more.

Laundry day, your fragrance drifts
Through my screen: My spirit lifts.
Subtle scents, your careless gifts,
And through each one, my keen nose sifts.

Singing, humming, filled with glee:
You wash your dishes, dutifully.
I hear you, though I cannot see,
How drippy-wet and wonderfully?

Accomp’nied by Spanish guitar,
This summer day, you wash your car.
Flamenco skirt, my jaw ajar,
On tippy-toes, you’ve stretched too far!

Then one day, from the box you came,
Bearing junk mail with my name.
I quickly turned to hide my shame.
You’d caught me staring, just the same.

My name, without lifting her head,
From that misguided missive, read.
Upset?  Not yet.  She smiled, instead,
Then took me by my arm, and said,

“I must confide, my next-door boy,
I play with you: my sweetest toy.
All parts and parcels of my ploy,
I mean to share what you enjoy.

“I scrub the floor where you can see.
I perfume all of my laundry.
I softly sing each melody,
And even dress indecently.

“…But spiders cause me grievous fright!
I have a burned-out ceiling light.
So, if you can and think you might,
Come help me with my chores, tonight.”

©2Dec2017 @DracoTalpus

Red bean bun and meat bun you always share
With me when we were young
When we sat at the sidewalks and
Watched the world passed us by
Talking different things under the sun.

Red bean bun and meat bun you lovingly gave
To me when you prepared to leave town
When from seedling you you grew into a tree
Testing your wings to fly like a bird
Wanting to see the whole universe.

Red bean bun and meat bun now you shared
With me when you came back home
When my heart fluttered to welcome you
At the same time crying when you found her
Realizing that you only treat me like a lil sister.

I fell in love with a stripper, is that wrong? society tells us that they're not even people, "oh they have diseases" "look at her shes not even smart to get a real job" well I have talked to a beautiful soul and it came from none other then a stripper... "gasp" she changed me, yeah shes a freak like me, but shes smart, out going down to earth, nice, and she likes me. Out of all the guys she chose me. Someday you have to actually get into trouble with the girl next door... I wake up, I find that my stripper is karma, that my sins indulge in more abuse to my head whilst dreaming, for I have no control. I have my own personal movie theater... I close my eyes and take in what a **** show is upon me. Am I careless to my insanity? I think not, the crazy pills only make me want more of the horniness exposure to my eye lids I drug for. My stripper, my karma, my not so in love... love.