everything above will fall

when she eats, my
food is never
quite the dish
her tongue desir'd

my wine is never
sweet enough.
the grapes are sour,
said the vine

but i don't pay
him any mind

see, everything
above will fall--
the moon
these stars
her eyes, her walls

but i can never
know just when.

i let her be
because i know that
when she rests her
weary head

her hair is never
quite too fine
to drape the pillow
on my bed.

Reviews

[E.j.aka.Hannah]

You're poetry is unlike anything I've read before.

I'm quite taken with it.

Good job.