deepundergroundpoetry.com
Love’s Cocktail
This lemon wedge,
floating in gin and angostura bitters.
Three words at the thin end —
and a wedding ring at the rind. Parched,
in Saharan dunes, by a calling sea,
refreshing rain, pours
rivulets streaming down the panes
of the cold glassed hot-house where I lie,
locked and shrivelled.
The brazen sun beats
while my panting tongue —
lolls.
floating in gin and angostura bitters.
Three words at the thin end —
and a wedding ring at the rind. Parched,
in Saharan dunes, by a calling sea,
refreshing rain, pours
rivulets streaming down the panes
of the cold glassed hot-house where I lie,
locked and shrivelled.
The brazen sun beats
while my panting tongue —
lolls.
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