Drunk Drum
i might Save you if you allow
as i am the Poet and shall not leave
but will write____in all intensity
i may sprout wings to swoop your Soul
but forget the body | why in these wild nights
do i love you?
In Eden and Atlantis
the Wind does not require
air ~ but she weeps still stolen gardens with bright
bee hums ~~ wherefore i shut the sound while
it dragged like a drunk drum and my reasons
never contained --but of Talk--
myself of some strange race
or being i dropped down and down
then as a King witnessed, upon your lips
, quivering as a living thing our lips
met.
The world turned upon a time
her eyes fluttering as butterflies
to entertain champagne.
:: 02.14.2023 ::
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