YOUR GRINNING DOLLS

Your dolls grin in my summer
melted silver-plastic sins
and I heard a crow caw
all for my belated needs
I never tended to life
and I find myself six feet deep
My pall bearer lover needs
me and my simple sweet soul
All for you I oiled your soul machine
and I am cosmic mechanic heart
I have the skills to fix your devour-mouth
My pall bearer sees crow caw
and I’m still six feet under…
Under your high heel career
and Versace style psychotic need
And who (you) bury my bleeding
I keep your longest kiss under
— neath my broken bone cap knees
And nothing hurts like your mouth

:: 07-16-2014 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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