tagNon-Erotic Poetryflaming manuscripts

flaming manuscripts


love is not music
if All is not music,
mathematics a crescendo
down to our shins in theory
open your fenestrations, baby
flex those pins
dance a furious Spring

silent shut door feather
light gathers near hinge
we both watch,
our looking does not bring the champagne any sooner

the floor creaks,
it is omen and poor maintenance
old wood buildings in the wind
salt and pepper gusts

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by2rivers© 4 comments/ 2317 views/ 0 favorites

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