deepundergroundpoetry.com
.morning.
you crashed into my journal,
'in the temple of my familiar',
all juniper,
salacious and saffron,
basquine,
clad in nothing but tidal force,
bearing truth seeking missile.
You must know,
you have a mouth fit for roses,
and there is ancient fibonacci sequined
in the pentameter of your spine.
'in the temple of my familiar',
all juniper,
salacious and saffron,
basquine,
clad in nothing but tidal force,
bearing truth seeking missile.
You must know,
you have a mouth fit for roses,
and there is ancient fibonacci sequined
in the pentameter of your spine.
Published 15th May 2013
| Edited 16th May 2013
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Anonymous
8th Dec 2013 2:29pm
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