Behind the Curtain
BEHIND THE CURTAIN
I picked the withering roses
Out of the vessel;
To fling them off
I crossed the door
Only to find
A palm of fingers
Tilling a land
Between his belly and abdomen
And soon his yelping mouth
Caught it and swallowed .
Alas! where ‘s
My rosy n chubby hunger -dear ?
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
