|
| |
Covetous
Is it a crime
To pry apart rhyme
Stitch lines, unhitched
From native consequence
To warily marry
Unmetered time
By forced remorse
Unrehearsed
In patchwork verse
In my malaise
My daydreams ablaze
I long for eloquence...
to drip, untripped
From my lips
The devil rides
my prideful hide
Chastise with whip and spur
Damning the span
Between who I am
And who I wish I were.
3/6/20
Copyright ©
Michelle Faulkner
|
|