Confession Poem by Mark Heathcote
Confession
Eve's lover comes to warm her with hot apple tea,
he brings the peppermint the acidity of lemon
she brings supplies the honey, the vitamin C
he needs, he hands her over a piece of ripe heaven
at the core, all she wants is to bite this phial of venom.
And hear his heart's deepest, darkest confession
forget all about fig leaves and noble discretion.
Monday, September 26, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/3/2024 7:58:23 AM # 1.0.0.1119
