deepundergroundpoetry.com

To be hummed

I've been hoping
you could hold me,
you could scold me
with your skinny hands.

I've been smoking
all the words you said,
all the dreams you bred
in my swollen reverie.

I've been poking
fun at my emotions,
and my devotions
to your sketchy design.

Where could we run, take cover?
Please decide
between the delicate, spring-light
and the frosted sunrise.

Please decide
between her oval face
and my disgrace
and my wicked taste in rhyme.

You have 24
little hours
to take
until I'll forsake you
until I'll mistake you for another distant lover


You have 24
little hours
to tame
the flame that burns like flesh-eating disease
the shame you can't deny, anymore...

Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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