deepundergroundpoetry.com

How it Comes

let comets moan
as they come from our mouths
are sleeping
narrow-leafed
beneath our tongues
see tulip pressed
to penstemon
this song-
that finds the crease
and folds a definition
discover here
a place within a place
let slip the thoughts of bloom-
they stay the flower
of what could ever be
and how it comes
Written by zorba
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3 reading list entries 0
comments 2 reads 616
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
SPEAKEASY
Today 11:15am by Ahavati
COMPETITIONS
Today 6:16am by dimpy
SPEAKEASY
Today 3:03am by JiltedJohnny
SPEAKEASY
Today 00:21am by SweetKittyCat5
COMPETITIONS
Yesterday 11:20am by LunaDahlia
SPEAKEASY
Yesterday 10:48am by Ahavati