Bongs and BrushesA Poem by Annette Jay Sweeney
Dip into her...
In the corner on a dusty couch
they are alone. People bustle past,
ping pong balls fly and bounce
in the next room, someone “bongs”
a beer and looses it, causing
a horrendous spewing spray.
They are so within each other,
I could have played the Spice Girls,
their dancing eyes wouldn’t have failed.
He holds her as delicately as
a painter holds his handle, dipping
into her every so often. His lips
carry the color on her cheeks, his fingers
churn her brown tendrils like brushes,
she is the canvas he has been searching for,
the perfect medium to receive his colors.
© 2010 Annette Jay Sweeney
Annette Jay Sweeney
AboutReading and writing have always provided a loving escape for me, but both are now taking on a more serious level. I thrive on reading others' work and helping them to improve, while also depicting my .. more..
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