deepundergroundpoetry.com

Fly, Flew, Flown, Flying

Take my past, please.

A little Henny Youngman never hurt anyone’s soul.
I want
Control.
You saved my letters. Good.
Are they yellow yet?
Liver spots, skin dots and the heart, does it clot?
Like cream
Your skin, my skin
Begin!
Stick me in an envelope
Lick it
The sting of glue on your tongue
Campfire, Scout
Wanna have s’more fun?
We are everything we always were
Abstract, yet fully formed
Do you believe in Creationism?
I still believe in you
I do, I do
My old boss pressed flowers into bookmarks
These are yellowed, too
But you and me
We’re new
We have flown this route before
So just endure
Trust in every word I say
And make me stay
Or come along
It’s fun up here
The flying.
Written by DeadEyesStarlight
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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