April 2017

Frown.

Can I ask how I am doing ?

j’sais pas

Bewildered by the mysteries of tmblr

Her short skirt

Red lips

Hips

(I sometimes dream of rosehip drink)

Cloudless skies

(a life under a sun never setting)

A Jail, Yale ; the eyebrows and her

gray tank top

My second violin playing her

First fiddle and our symphony

a frown

b.l.i.n.d

In the eye of Shai’tan

My minor misdemeanor is

As devoid of the embrace as

Counting the raindrops

Not falling – on my cheeks

In the eye of Shai’tan

Your minor mindemeanor is

As obvious as

1

2

3

I’m not counting

There is no need

RUN

I did a runner

Left them all behind

I did a runner

No apology to be found

I did a runner

Icicles waving

Unshaven faces

Trembling legs of

Precipitation

Frowning

Light Stalking

Light stalking; balaclava covering his

face – the filthy whore no longer

begging for

more… Solitude, silence,

screaming whore

Doctor’s order; slowly, slow, low

Left at the altar

She never forgave

The fcuking whore

stalked

no more

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