I dare to say
I gave away,
A basket of berries,
Black and sweet,
That she could see,
What it is I am
And what I am not
And still taste away
On the dancing tongue
Of breath and mist,
To be alive,
To even exist
Yet be the same as it ever was
In the dreams I saw her,
Standing there, unaware,
That we feel and felt
All too apart, tuning out
Just when the close of
Curtains raised, on each conversation
That never took place.
The corpse of iteration,
On display,
Above the streets
Of our ill parade.
-
Author:
Nicholas Browning (
Offline) - Published: April 2nd, 2024 02:50
- Comment from author about the poem: "Mom, I keep telling you, it's a metaphor!"
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 7
- Users favorite of this poem: Alan R
Offline)
Comments1
Cooooeee, I never knew there was so much to a blackberry. Well, I know now! lol.
I hang around like a bad.... [complete he sentence]. Oohh, a quiz too!
Blackberries are mysterious creatures Steve lol
You know The Blackberry Monster?! lol.
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