Of the Fingers From the Rest of the Week
love is like are touching
and the desire is of the flesh
as I look at the moon in the full nights
and are there
all of them
ten as never ever been
But you do not ever let your eyes to see
and this
wipe every Monday of the week.
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.
