This is how it stands:
a lake, long devoid of water,
a mouth, long devoid of food
a heart.
When you read I feel
i could devour your words
like risotto. Yum.
They could slip down
my throat and settle in my stomach
like digested hot chocolate.
You make me FEEL,
you make me THINK.
Where did you steal those words from?
Dickens? Eliot? Bronte?
(surely it was bronte)
no.
It was you.
Gosh. You make me feel
so meaningless
when you read.
You’ve considered everything
and it feels
like i’ve thought
of nothing
in comparison.
you make me want
to eat you.
In a nice way,
of course.
YOU ARE READING
Butterfly Ripples
PoezieButterfly ripples through water and wind fluttering petals, whispering wings. Words swing 'round trees carried in a breeze of butterfly ripples so do as you please. But don't taunt their song of water and wind: to it they belong and so they will sin...
