My Feet. There's two.
And there walking half a mile,
in the heat, in the sand, I find that
washed downstream, a turn of the tide,
With no other person to complete their strides
Ten toes. Two souls. And Swelter me.
Ankle deep in azure, my serene dynamite.
We could be running, a liquid sun,
My back melts and dives and whorls,
As it ferments into sea foam.
Churning, head implodes
Like Circe, chastity, a loathing swine,
Paradise mine lost until we forget time.
YOU ARE READING
What He Told Me. Poetry
PuisiI was told to share what I write by a guy. This is what I've done. Some of this is dark. Some of this is the inner workings of what is happening in my life. Im sorry for making you read this
