still you don’t call yourself miss pepper


though you seem to matter now you seem


to look good you look ivory you seem


pretty good


still you don’t call yourself your self


nice things like selves fit


on his fingers better than at your neck


do you still look for pretty faces


give all the goods away


pack your bads and


jump off



miss pepper I’m sorry you still are


misunderstood you still


misbehave and


you still miss me



i think you’d better bring up some great point of view


with all that frown you’ve raised


all that glitter that sore skin of yours


those spotlights


which torn your beauty like wet cloth



muddy gloves for scratched senses



you still smell like my old home wooden backdoor


with your mouth like a pale red doorstep


pointing to the ceiling


somehow targeting the roof


for a quick armed fly-over


I’d be terrified to meet you on my way forward


I’d surely beware of that self of yours


that is no longer like you



miss pepper if I were you I’d give up


missing for good.


I’d roll everything and throw it through the air hole


make some sound out of my old voice


dry it with the hairdryer


mix it with everything else that is dry


and short and old


and finally


I’d give up missing.


for good.

Vizualizări: 9

Adaugă un comentariu

Pentru a putea adăuga comentarii trebuie să fii membru în reţeaua literară / la red literaria !

Alătură-te reţelei reţeaua literară / la red literaria

Insignă

Se încarcă...

Statistici

Top Poetry Sites

© 2019   Created by Gelu Vlaşin.   Oferit de

Embleme  |  Raportare eroare  |  Termeni de utilizare a serviciilor