Doorbells ring at 1:00 p.m.
Classy car rides
Sandy feet erased by new seas
Roses traced in a circle
Towels lit myself by lies
Voices inside heads,
Pictures in the candles
Yards walked in red dresses
Cheeks stained and worn by blood
Circulated feet on the floor
Soft meaty flesh touch
Doors slam and tables turn
Knives engraved that leather seat
But we are no longer
When are soft meaty flesh touch
YOU ARE READING
My Unstable Poetry
PoetryA diary of sorts. 2015-2017. A poetry collection of angst, depression, and epiphanies.
