1. soup

    loose porcelain lips
    evoke bruised exteriors
    swift kicks expose
    faulty construction,
    inferior by design,
    like fibers once entwined
    now losing petals and
    wilting

    cold hands survey
    grey landscapes where
    mans handshakes are
    the scales of justice.
    damnation is brewed
    adjacent to where trust
    is, complacent breaths
    continue to underachieve

    you’re the rain,
    or the clouds that
    freed it, or soft
    puddles reverberating
    still 

     
    1. whoartgos posted this