PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

When I met her, how she sated the circumstantially caged confines to spot-on mesmerize my forgotten flame. We never dreamed ourselves worthy, but rather to die. Then burst open a proper brothel (I don’t regiment my audience), a craven desire like a sack of bricks kind of gist slaps you across the face, or with a silken whip lashes ever so tender attacks on your serpentine spine. I don’t care for the sappy stuff. Neither give two sorry shits for what type of words you might find flirtatious. A schizo sink in whiskey quicksand. Poet’s pretentious plight. I chime cheddar. 15 days no food no water. She sure is a pretty kitty. Small. Smaller. Smallest breed for a certainty unreal…