Ficly

Spoken Word Poetry (2)

Invariably
I’m near
Where their degree
Varies barely
But nary is it me
I’m clearly
Steering
A completely
Different pedigree
Quite simply
I write to set it free
My white hot fiery
Light and lovely
Enclaves of caves on coves
Where soul mates shed their clothes
And hold every touching moment closer
As the furious froth of splashing waves rove
Washing days to its nightly tips
Noshing— dinner splotching lips
Watching the sun set its wisps
Red, orange, pink all a whisk
In a bleeding, receding mix
Transforming to darkness it twists
As I tighten my wistful mind adrift
In the beauty of space and time
And lift
You up into the cave under the cliff’s
Precipice
We kiss
Quietly
Not missing society
For the promise of bliss
Can be accomplished in bits
If you build and never quit on its
Will, will you know the one who sits
Hits the hardest?
The one who can trapeze and please a circus
Is the smartest
Person
Nay ARTIST
The heartiest
Purposefully purple..
“Sir, pull!”
And try to pry
My hurt turtled hell
From its shattered shell

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