Spiny spindles
Prickles the shape
The bodice of an ancient woman
It pinpricks the innocence of a man
And inebriates the dog one last time
Sent him spinning into the abyss
He cannot escape, cannot be save
He will forever have the drunk longing for more
Desperate and pitiful.
Stuck to the glowing cacti
Its pinpricks and prickling pricks pricking
His innocence.
YOU ARE READING
Labyrinth
PoetryPoems I made during quarantine. A poem compilation about eating, sleeping and other things. I don't know what I have created. Read at your own risk.
