Boil Like Lust: Magnet Board Poem



Say, will our lie boil like lust

When men whisper true love?

Music, then must sing under death

And My languid goddess grieves

To the Wind to the rain. 

She asks true love's dream

Where road rose to trip 

the weaker blood.

Delicate in worship

When men whisper. 

True love,

Like lust,

to the lies.





Author's Notes/Comments: 

Fun with words What the board said pulled out of an old filing cabinet:

My languid goddess scream sordid winter peach word to rain, ask him were, road read rose trip, weak blood, Say, will our lie boil like lust, men whisper true love, music must sing under death.

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