A social site for poets in Sydney.
Maybe If my blood stopped turning to paisley
and my brain wasn’t woodgrain
I could think straight and tell you we can have it
I know you want that,
but say it first because
thirst doesn’t look right
for fox like mine
▶ Reply to This
Wow, Vivian. A cracking little poem. Vivid, ambiguous, unique and... devoid of your usual references to body heat! Nice one. Please write more of this stuff. LJ
'woodgrain lavish'...love it.
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