Monday, December 02, 2019

messy breakfast aftermath

Her white, angelic hands stroked sleek
and clean through rough and coarse beard hair
bedewed by crusted yolk of egg,
and found redemption lying there

her sudden angel wings came over
both of them in down newborn
and comforting, she swore at once,
she'd never trade halo for horn.

But as she swore, there peeped two points
from her angelic brow, and apprehensively,
she mused "Ah, fuck!
I guess there's just
one sin for me."

No comments:

Post a Comment

Anything you have to say - question, critique, interpretation, praise or rebuke - is received with gratitude and interest.

If it looks like spam and contains a link, though, it will not be published. I will cherish it to myself, instead. Thank you!