P O K E R
Don’t you know that fragrance can be heard? I assume you don’t. Me? Still drooling to ammonia of that heritage moments of ‘us’. So, I decided to scribbled words. Lifeless.
Dang! That was not poetry. That was just words welcoming the aches of cars crashing to a soul. That was looking at insults as I stand in the wet concrete with nothing but empty validation from strangers. That wasn’t poetry. That was me ruthlessly playing poker with the SUN while holding tear-stained recollections in front of ignored mailbox — wishing that emotions are disposable.
Have I mentioned that I was playing cards with the solar then? Sadly, I decided to swallow it, rather than be lost again!
A poem by JinQue RD which was published in an Amazon-best seller book entitled Scentsibility.
Follow JinQue Rd at:
facebook: https://web.facebook.com/AuthorSycamoreWild
instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sycamore_wild/
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