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Smaller

I am miniscule
The burning cigarettes
Ink stained shirt pockets
Vocals on deaf ears
Rejected lust cautions

You shaved every day
You outlined his youthful body
Free from stains
Free from pains
I am ten flesh layers

Please, come back to me
The unfurled arms
Wait. Insurmoutable.
Inspected by time
Hoarding the talons

Of mercilessly fielded years
I am desirable?
Hallowed in your green pouch
Amongst your horticulture
Free from the lame.

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Comments

  • patron saint
    May 8

    Edit | Reply
    That second stanza seems to be one highly prevalent within the subculture. You've said it well.

    J