PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You let me slide my tongue

slowly up your

sweet indifference.



You taste like chaulk.



Ay,

that's the rub.

Note: The result

of embalming our precious ones

in a wax mold

of eyeliner

and Oprah's Book Club.

Point taken.



Now it's all gone to heck.

They're pierced,

like martini olives

and all you can do

is chew their thighs,

like thick taffy, or

wait until the roses

are hung upside down

and dry

and wilt

and exist for this purpose.



So brittle brittle.

Vanilla frosted cake

splattered on a statue

of the Virgin Mary.



It should have never been,

to this point,

taken.