I lap up your lipstick.
Foaming sudsy oat
meal then just burst
like that certain fire-
work in misty June.
My hands are quite
nervous, I completely
agree. Without you.
Have been reading your poetry tonight, get lost in some of it. The way you write, taking thoughts and putting them together eventually paints a picture at the end. Very nice. Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn (Feel free to read my poetry and comment if you'd like) .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fabulously descriptive! Reminding me of futility and frugality of emotion... of the wishing that one wasn't where one happened to be at the moment... I can relate heavily having just come from that place earlier this evening.... Very well penned... Touché Sir!