Just a little to the left, just a little to the backward
Just a little to the up-side-down
Just a few more nibbles; just a few more wounds; just a little less
Sound
Just a break in the silence just a deafening second
How is love so blind? How is love so bound?
Just a death of an infant just a hug from a mother just
A world
Revolving
round
Hamartia
Early bird,
Her man’s shadow
Nuisance tugging on a corduroy trouser leg trim
Patience is her virtue, empathy her nature
Guzzling plug holes and sizzling bacon, no ones home
Wait for the smell of smoke and again for the awful smell of
Gas
Why are there crumbs
Why is there mess
Why is there no one to waitress
Bellows
Leftovers from fetuses and black black coffee
Rigid frame and hollowed eyes
Lipped, cracked, used
There is no rest for the wicked; there is no solace for the abused
About the Creator
AB
poetry n stuff
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