Two hairclips
clasped upon the table,
tight and metal
their embrace.
Even
the peppercorns
in the spice-mill
must feel my happiness,
And perhaps the leaves outside
are jealous.
















Comments
Perhaps my philosophy on leaves is a bit different
--
I'm one of your talking wounded.
[link] - Wilt N Flowers; poet, novelist and all-round genius. Enlightened and at your service.
[link] - the guide to good commenting.
This leaves me wondering...
Got me some stafftools to fix. I'll put this back.
--
love so deep, kills you in your sleep
it was cold
outside
the
leaves
were
underwatered
brown
Everyone has fantasies.
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