Corner Pocket

Corner pocket of the eye
Thatís 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 donít matter
He wonít speak
About what he keeps
In the corner pocket of his eyes
Written by Vferry
Published | Edited 19th Oct 2020
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