Sandielle
every night I dream
about the angel beings
with celestial sandy hair
and every morning
I wake up with a headache
madly obsessed
with that snow-white skin
do the walls feel how I feel?
and do the antique statues
put lipstick on their mouths?
that's correct
then, after the first chapter
I throw out to the moonless night
every god-forgotten book
forgotten like those
mean marine mammals
and think about Sandielle
too bad that I can't
sleep at night anymore
and from the distance I yell
goodbye to Sandielle
Copyright © William Greco | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment