With sheers against the jaw
Mine dignity did fall
The coarsness of thine spirals glistened
and seeped into the bog.
My face now bare as swine-hide
I tremble in despair.
But soon fear turns to reverie
and I simply cease to care.
For though I have forsaken thee
Our months as one live on
In photographs and arty poems
and the coyote-call at dawn.
Yet now and then I'll grasp my chin
and wonder where you've been
your comfort everlasting,
whisk's enchanting my poor jaw.
Friday, April 25, 2008
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2 comments:
Ridiculous. Are you sure nobeard isn't a mistake?
beautiful
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