You will always
have me as a sunset —
the transient fading
of cordage binding
the elapse of another yester,
clattering like coins
dropped from empty pockets.
Rocket ships to draw and throw
to dysfunctional sockets,
Buckets to fill with crumpled daydreams.
—MLD | 10312021 6:07pm
YOU ARE READING
Artifice
PoetryMy question marks were never caged but they always find ways to conceal their images and trick the pachydermatous spectator with artifice. Maybe, certainty can be Socrates listening to the mixtape in my closet? Maybe uncertainty can be me withou...
