My Bowl Poem by Nassy Fesharaki
My Bowl
My bowl
Nothing has; not so far
Been better, than my bowl
Private, personal
Nothing yet, not so far.
I used to, drink in
Small bowl of flesh
Personal, private
Two cupped hands, ten fingers.
And still things taste best
When I see tight fingers
Holding fast, serving best
Adds too much, in my case.
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: self
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4/19/2024 7:39:44 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Truly, drink with the fleshy bowl really quenches one's thirst naturally.