****************

Time is a sand storm
in my hour glass of solitude
where is
my hawt muse
she is spread eagle
while I ponder
twisted phrases
in between strands of hair
I’ve yanked clear
my temple bloody raw
from the vicious thumping
and you reading
me into the sea of tranquillity
but the oars are overboard
and I’m crazily drifting
alone
wanting to summon
her legs trapped
and inspiration
returned

****************

Lisa  Jewell

Joined July 2007

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