deepundergroundpoetry.com

Rare

 

Peach transience
betrays lust and loins.

Bite and suck,
those juices leave us
thirstier.

The fluttering timid
place the fruit basket
upon a pedestal,
then bemoan decay.

On the plane of real,
our crystal sanity plays
songs of the soul.



Written by Atakti
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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