Poem -

Honeysuckle.

i choose not to waste
honeysuckle
on a sense too
Suspicious

of beauty. Promised.
not to fall

in love with fragile things
which are only the stings
of impermanence

all my bleached bones
in the curdling earth
raw gushing bloodbaths
Of ludicrous births
Imagined

god knows why

only god.

M ~

 

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author
Jacques Tales

We all blame it on love sometimes. Soulful words of wisdom and light.

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