Bon-Bon-A
All that's left is figures. And frostbitten
fairy tales (in the heart!) in the Book of Nonexistence. A Poem
created, for the first (junction of two bodies!)
morning bus.
Who am I?
I identify a reflection in the spectral murmur. I see
the stalactites (in the heart!) in a cup of tea. We,
restrained, from astounding (junction of two bodies!)
dance of virtue.
Who are we?
Nervous readings repeated...Deflowered
K. (in the heart!) in the fluid of crincled rhymes. Or,
In Our case: amourous of (junction of two bodies!)
giggle of the reason.
All that's left is...some fairy tales?
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