Acerbic Love

Leave a comment
Poetry
Apocalyptic fears
That come and go,
Marvelous weather
That gives me solace.

I feel slightly thirsty.
The housecleaner is gone
And the floors are wet,
Ready for my indoor skating.

Freckled skin,
The dog approaches
And wets my knee
With his muzzle. 

Acerbic love. 
I take a sip of wine,
I call a truce,
She leaves an open door.

The wooden panel creaks,
I get flustered
And my cheeks redden
When I imagine myself
Writing this. 

The Author

Woman. Floaty. Attached. Dettached. Sudden. Note-scribbler. Citizen of the world. Travelling to the moon and back.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.