- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Gingerbread Man
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It is in the stillness of morning
that he hungers my soul
scented of the gingerbread
days when Vernors helped me swallow
under grandma’s patchwork quilt
off-colored, with fraying seams
a futile, thin covering
for a great pretender telling
myself, this is what I need
as I cling to lies like cups
half empty, shivering
- COMMENTS
sweet GA peachesover 18 years agothought you left me with,
quite a play on words, curious,
and left me thinking ,this
could have had several
meanings...
~sGp~
lobomaoover 18 years agoI love the sensitivity and the way you can take such personal moments and make them so accessable. I can smell the patchwork quit and get all nostalgic reading this.
delicous, more please
