With No Fondness Poem by Kayt Krepcho
With No Fondness
with no fondness
I think of that foul,
limp thing that hangs
between your legs
and that foul,
limp thing that hangs
between your lips
and that dead thing
that rattles inside
your skull
you flick your fake
mustard colored hair
out of your eyes
and tell me that you have always loved me
I don’t think I deserve very much
but I know I deserve better than you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/7/2024 5:28:56 PM # 1.0.0.1119
