deepundergroundpoetry.com
Corner Pocket
Corner pocket of the eye
That’s where he keeps it
undertones, unturned stones
Leave it alones
Right there it sits
Just lapping around
Pools of potholes, ridicules,
Truths untold
Baked into the batter of crows feet
Too much salt not enough sugar
But it don’t matter
He won’t speak
About what he keeps
In the corner pocket of his eyes
That’s where he keeps it
undertones, unturned stones
Leave it alones
Right there it sits
Just lapping around
Pools of potholes, ridicules,
Truths untold
Baked into the batter of crows feet
Too much salt not enough sugar
But it don’t matter
He won’t speak
About what he keeps
In the corner pocket of his eyes
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