Below is the poem entitled Matchstick and men which was written by poet
Indira. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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Smoke me out and cancer
I remember when I was your stick thin, pretty grin, dimple in the chin
And your navel, the bucket of my quench,
catches the spins of your call and my answer
And when your hand grabs elbows
and I laugh and spin at the ribboning of my temples
I know this is the stop
You see, I boom for you and you just pop
So I snap back turn and swing
You're the pendulum of my happening
You're my lay down, stay down call and no answer
So I ricochet, piqué, split and go faster
but I find you, the keeper of my feet
The loud raping the meek
Do you remember me?
Stick thin. Life's grim. What's a dancer?