You smell like coffee
And madness — dug a hole for my new rosemary bush.
It will be perfect for my roast chicken
widespread arms are not empty, they are full of craving.
all that is within for you, is of our satiation saving, our hearts attempt to mourn in the innumerate belaying.– Lenore M. Rheaume, Poet, Rhode Island

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s