Vinegar.
The taste
in my mouth
grew
as you slipped
away down
the open
end of
a barrel
words like salt
pressed into
wounds lashed
from your
razor tongue
How many times
can you blow
bubbles of
I'm sorry?
A contest entry
- taste by zillion.
500 points, ended July 16, 2008, 9 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Whoa...just...whoa.
-
this is cute. and likeable.
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