Sunday, March 10, 2013

Vy krasivy

it’s all fucked up
the round the world
the sixty-nine
the works
it’s all fucking, dude
it only feels good

I could see the night
come barreling down
to dawn,
she slept in my lap
and one hand caressed
her hair

when the body goes
desire does not
the middle of a day’s
not like three o’clock
in the morning
time is no worry

I looked up the way
to say You are beautiful
in your language,
Your eyes are tides
pulling me to shore
to kiss your salty lips

(10 March 2013)

copyright 2013 by Floyce Alexander

2 comments:

  1. Floyce, I enjoyed your poetry...as usual.

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  2. Rough, raw but HOME truths therein, Floyce. I enjoyed this. I felt some shame that I haven't the balls to face myself in that honest way...

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