I Don'T Care
I haven’t seen her face in years;
I don’t care,
anymore.
Ever growing seldom knowing post psychotic womb dreams
arrive while I’m awake.
Ever present effervescent esoteric moonbeams
shine every time I make,
love.
A laugh erupts atop the stair.
Pink velvet pulse
beyond compare,
dress daylights breath
in cashmere flare
silk smooth.
The smile spreads
throughout the coach.
Weaves blinding threads
to frowning hosts
asleep.
Copyright © Mitchell Eadie | Year Posted 2013
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