deepundergroundpoetry.com

One Can Hardly Make It Out

1.

Please be kind
to this present
pleasant pleasure,
a matter of sense,
a batter of incense,
like a cognate closer
to a discipline or the
rim of closeness merging
with you in that unfamiliar
anticipation:

2.

taking the rings from
your finger, like a
prized possession:  
richer than me, more
real than you, with
your braided hair and
the constant fun fair,
there, which will always
be remembered.
Written by marcella1
Published
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