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 |    10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind |
| Fast Forward: Post The Apocalypse I was your lone survivor, the one you called wicked, still alive, still alone. What game we played, I do not know? In silver shoes, wearing my blues, thought I could sparkle on your bright horizon, but only second to your gold, left a spectrum from which to choose. You knew it would be you, tarnished bronze by your family sun, memories of merciless times, burnt skin before a cloud burst sent me deep within. Here I sit, legs wrapped, feet in sand kicked, flying everywhere from invisible eddies. Shades donned. Lotion applied. You could call on your lone, surviving bride. Too many to bed with, your lust sends henchmen with knives, guns and veiled threats. Just soaking up the last rays of an apocalyptic fire, burning, supposedly for you. I absorb the dimming heat, grin. Baring my breast on your beach front, Inhale vision of gawkers who long to sin, Fast forward… 6.28.21 |
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