Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
its struck
negligent tower
with terrible
lie in
a broken
yogic and
while here
she flung
her trapezoid
in the
wat she's
always held
near the
uneven bars
and could
retrogress such
a telltale
The weeds belch forth from
every opportunity .
The marbled marmalade has lost
all it's glazed perpetutuity
Ductile iron lace , once dreams ,
covered in mist and rust
Petticoated ghosts of little girls
Swing from chain linked imaginations
A wearied moon plexiates
The trees tier the moon away
And I am missing you

— The End —