Poetry

Friday 30 March 2018

Throw back

It all began in the snow storm
The mint snow glistened like money
I said I wish life was this soft
She said you know it is honey

The dream of Geronitis was smitten
By the half seagull ghosts who were bitten
By the bug at the end of the cotton wool thread
When you know what you seemed was a mirror to the dead

Come black beads, tie your goose fat wives
Upon the bed leg
Throw back the tides of guiltless lives
Back into the faces of the unsaid

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