the bowl of letters and Roman
figures; merge in an endless churning
of phrases; of alphabets in sentences
unceasing, without pause;
no punctuation to bar the boundary of
senselessness.
draining the mL of the silent
still waters; drenched in the absence of
wintry chill, the spoon hurled itself
towards porcelain walls, fishing
for a gamble with fate
the spirits then from the exothermic
liquid ran loose; and to the eye
penetrated a pang of
sunburst pain;
and reopening the metamorphosis of the
heated utensil,
I desired three 7's with my metal dice,
but instead hooked with my
empty silver bait; some hot soup
and a letter G.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Sabaw eh XDD
Adding your comment:
