In the desolatory sun, I beat my wings,
but couldn't fly; I had no hands to reach out,
no frosting for my cake, no temple to pray,
inside of. The world was not my oyster.
I wanted, for anything, to touch you,
once more, beneath a fading moon,
for one hour, could I comprehend your mind,
one evening to dine with you, before the ashes fall,
before the smoke rise. Before the end.
YOU ARE READING
Please Don't Touch
PoetryPlease Don't Touch is my first self-published book of poetry, written and published originally in 2012. #51 in Poetry, 3 June, 2017 #85 in Poetry, 4 June, 2017 #108 in Poetry, 25 May, 2017 #136 in Poetry, 26 May, 2017 #149 in Poetry, 24 May, 2017 #1...
