Who writes of me
without pad nor pen
or scribes with sharpened knife
a belly of lies unfastened from sheath
deep that bores the core of heart?
Illusions swift they swim
in waves as shoals
cold and blue
spawned from
tiny minnows.
poetry & things
Who writes of me
without pad nor pen
or scribes with sharpened knife
a belly of lies unfastened from sheath
deep that bores the core of heart?
Illusions swift they swim
in waves as shoals
cold and blue
spawned from
tiny minnows.