Fan at my feet.


He’s dead
No he’s not….lies….wondering wondrous…blah blah blah
lies and cleats…..dies…butterflies
he is alive…wondering wondrous…speech
laying low, happy birthday first
A cousin’s lips, greenfield….mine…hurts.
I want you pink, a picture fine. Graduation
grads wondering wondrous….you.
Hair full of head, marks, scars and then some.
Tight dreams, lust, and then some…wondering wondrous.
Air frosty, harsh, an infrequent…come in my dreams
on the wooden stairs, zero light…a perfect dark…
wondering wondrous….spark. Fan at my feet, kill myself with sleep I…dee dah lah…dee..dah dee…me…ana…me..thee..T.
Tell you secrets you tell no one, guilty as gear
Xxxx.x.xx.xxxoel,,,..me….yoU…S. Wondering wondrous.

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About Oil Underneath

I drink glasses of cold water.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Fan at my feet.

  1. Jingle says:

    cute poem,

    lovely done!
    🙂

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