Don’t play me a heart
on cat strings
which cry…
or ruby lips
cheeks
or thighs.
on cat strings
which cry…
or ruby lips
cheeks
or thighs.
You live on the edge
the fringes…
of my life –
a blur
of hope
or nothing –
but a wolf.
the fringes…
of my life –
a blur
of hope
or nothing –
but a wolf.
I like your imagery here--especially in the first stanza--but the last line just grabbed me
ReplyDeleteThank you so much! It's nice to know a real person is actually looking at my poetry :-) Take care, Cheers Dave
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