three breaths deep and hold

i.

                    i.

Mouth—yours,

     rich in fullness of them—

whatnots and such of lovers' rose-dusted forevers,

     in seasons of flourished sorrow

afar they eye, in plenty ongoing—

     anticipation: external, everlasting, evermore,

forever and a day—always—constant, incessant,

     the perpetual of unremitted and . . .

the nothing of fruition's disappointment

     lies in the seat of lips, double spoken.

©ECole789 1/15/2017