It Comes To Blows Poem by Mark Money
It Comes To Blows
flammable heart
comes too close to the solvents of desire.
and so it goes
it comes to blows.
oversized dreams standing at the canyon of hope
it comes to blows.
vendetta doesn't taste good.
anger doesn't sit well.
the overripe heart doesn't come in- -
guess it traveled too close to the sun.
coming from a land of impatient arms,
i understand why it comes to blows.
© (1975—Tulsa, OK)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/2/2024 1:55:13 AM # 1.0.0.1119
