The full moon hangs
As if it were the monacle
Of God. Her lips move
As if she were an oracle
A candle lit couch
Holds crayon coloured eyes
A suggestive slouch, and
Half lit monarch smiles
Sugar sipped shrugs
Tired lives. Torn.
Sewn. Shaken. Stirred.
Undressed. Naked. Worn.
A fighters chin beneath
a lovers lip. split feelings.
Shit out of luck. A winners wreath
That means nothing.
A flush of heat
A flash of light. Flap
Of wings. Emptied seats. Strap
Less dress, and the show has only begun
iggy:
love this.