Sunday, June 02, 2019

Tares

We bend to abstruse meandering but
  poets sup on wishes to be written.

      We shun the inexorable end,
 while poets sing want's incantation.

     Essence true unthinkable
         with so much plastic
                   within
             this hunger for
      the captivating twilight
                of covered
                  mirrors.

No comments: