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| Open Poetry #42 |
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Spuddette Member
since 2008-07-03
Posts 112England |
My thoughts trickle into words Like wolves feet Barely heard My lament is discreet It paces in a yawn Warmed by your sheepish heat Fed by your shudder Sinking into your forbidden form My eyes gnaw at your nerves Tear at your benevolent meat. My thoughts stretch into lanky words Like adolescent shadows They stoop moodily And lick your retreat. |
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| © Copyright 2008 Spuddette - All Rights Reserved | |||
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BluesSerenade Member Patricius
since 2001-10-23
Posts 10549By the Seaside |
My lament is discreet It paces in a yawn ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ooooooooooo, this is spooky good. I'm captivated by the fearless undertones in which you write of. |
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2islander2 Member Ascendant
since 2008-03-12
Posts 6825by the sea |
Very nice words, I enjoyed. yann |
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Marchmadness Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271So. El Monte, California |
Very interesting write Spudette. I like the undertones as well. Ida |
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XGarapanX Senior Member
since 2008-06-19
Posts 1435Antarctica |
Yipe! lol! I feel violated! ·´~`·»Garapan«·´~`· |
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