Latenight Undertow Poem by eve Taylor

Latenight Undertow



Sipping on wine,

that is black,

it's quiet,

cars pass by,

a distant sound,

as if drowned,

I feel,

as if real,

behind music,

that softly plays,

I am remiss,

that I still miss,

things that were,

so I sip some more,

sometimes,

almost latenight,

is a hard wave,

you either sink,

or you swim.

Sunday, November 4, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: poetry,poem
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