Clay Mold Poem by Kewayne Wadley

Clay Mold



I disciplined myself in her.
Humbling myself in her mold.
First my body then my soul.
Painting myself with her skin.
She scribbled her name across me.
Using her finger as a pencil, gently scribbling.
I don't want to sound crazy. But I thought she was suppose to be
the object of my affection not the other way around.
I love how she does that

Monday, February 6, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: art,for her,funny love,love
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Kewayne Wadley

Kewayne Wadley

Groton, Connecticutt
Close
Error Success