I sleep with sugarcoated bits
of twilight in my teeth whilst
waiting for the sunrise to fall
Kept golden dusts on my lips,
waiting for the next ears
to hear my high-end downfall
Luxury fading
on my vibrant fingertips.
emaciated,
shattered.
Limelight's a lightless cage
embroidered on the lips
of the sunlight's replica
on a fetter's call.
—MLD | 12302020
YOU ARE READING
Artifice
PoetryMy question marks were never caged but they always find ways to conceal their images and trick the pachydermatous spectator with artifice. Maybe, certainty can be Socrates listening to the mixtape in my closet? Maybe uncertainty can be me withou...
