Of Sherbet and Gin, tasted your skin.
Blood alcohol’s begun to thin,
to the gun in his mouth’s searing chagrin.
Trauma-bound Saturday, once again.
Damaged hearts in screaming din,
when darkness find each other, within.
Capillaries fused.
Occlusion abound.
Valentine mist.
Intoxicant cloud.
When lips first touched? Sweet melody – so loud
Unfinished.
Unsought.
A circus: two clowns.
Now Vivian would be so proud,
she’s gorgeous in black, so arrogant,
still too damn proud!
Stumbling on
in her Westwood shroud…
Damn!!
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Thank you so much, and welcome to the Blackwater! π
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Nice bit of foetry going on here.
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Thanks mate. Always appreciate a read. ππ»β€οΈπ
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