i can't give you letters
i'm selfish.
i can't offer you my words
i can't write poetry
none of which is fiction.
i know nothing of literature
i can't travel
my legs are weak
my mind's searching for something else
you always ask me to do this and that
but i always (as always) refuse
sorry.
i can't give you my poetry,
my words,
my treasures and my plans
but here's one thing,
i can give you cheesecake and a bottle of wine
the next time you ask me a thing i am incapable of doing
will you smile and eat the cake
or let it rot
or else days after you'll notice something
inside the mouth of your cat
(laughs)
Something you like
11:56:00 PM |
Classification:
Twenty Poems for G
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