the proverbial cup
of bottomless love
is nothing more
than a folk tale
of longing
and loss
little whites fly out
before i know it
i am smashed up against
the windshield
that they have come to rest upon
and i am sucking them up
like air
just to try and find
something
to grasp at
that is not liquid
and
loose
i need hard
hard up
and heated
in my bed
to comfort the soft spots
and remind them
that they will not always be soft
nor will they always be spots
come to me
spreading the lies
thick like paste
only to cut me out in pieces
and push me to your board
i will be 20 pieces of
put together goodness
and you will be the one piece that gets away
because i have no need
or want for anything
other than
sex
Author notes
liar
A contest entry
- Liar (s) by CarolDesjarlais.
900 points, ended November 30, 2008, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
Wow, far edge is right..... love the 20 pieces of silver implications..... you took this sharp and wild right to the last line.
"come to me
spreading the lies
thick like paste"
Awesome few liens to be sure. -
I love your comment And you did a wonderful job bringing it to that conclusion 
-
I love your poems very will done.. Mine are so smiple are at less they are for me.. They just come out of me.. If I wrote every poem I have wrote on it would be over a million I write every day.. But when I am depressed or very happy manic even is when they come out the best..
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