Sunday, August 25, 2013

Whatever, My Dear...I Shall Wait.

Is it enough,
to train the little lovely pieces of me?
How may my bitter teeth soothe those lips of yours, moist
with need, 
desire sans filter like breathless night bound to the moon




Cries eaten out of pleasures fierce
with Summer's unattainable
light.
 
 
Mishla
 
 
whirl

3 comments:

  1. The format gave me a some trouble.

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  2. A very striking piece! Personally, I love free-form poetry. I don't care much about format myself. It's the emotion that counts.

    Mine was prose, a bit of fantasy/science fiction and is here.

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  3. Strolling over to read you prose piece now. TY!

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Love to read your positve-heartfelt thoughts.