What is my purpose?
If not to suck up this dirt,
Like cocaine leaves a mirror,
As snow falls on this mountain,
So far from South America,
As weekends are embarked upon,
Talked about and laughed over,
That dirt laid there,
Waiting for me ,
Like a bride wanting deflowering,
Sweet my that is an image,
So clean and dust free,
Vacuum dancing to the beat,
Illegal shamanism in my soul,
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Author:
Blue Dental Squirrel (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 6th, 2017 21:47
- Comment from author about the poem: The vacuum dance what else can I say it feeds me and my soul.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 19
Offline)
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