deepundergroundpoetry.com
Gee
Kafra’s tomb is your torso
under Musa’s dark script
tongue touches
lighter than
insect-swept wrists
curl grazing thigh
thrush sigh on the night
brushes ear with their tip
soft V and fine fold
whiskers at split
there are garnets to taste
pink bamboo for soak
ripe kiwi for kiss
and nothing to waste
under Musa’s dark script
tongue touches
lighter than
insect-swept wrists
curl grazing thigh
thrush sigh on the night
brushes ear with their tip
soft V and fine fold
whiskers at split
there are garnets to taste
pink bamboo for soak
ripe kiwi for kiss
and nothing to waste
Published 7th May 2019
| Edited 22nd Nov 2019
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