I put the kettle on.
Meanwhile, the crumpets are fresh.
Help yourself.
Help yourself because I can't do it for you.
My only desire today
is to sit back in this iron chair
and share a cup or two
in your company.
Is that too much to want?
You've got a million wishes
burning your lips,
stuck in the crackling flames
of themselves,
and fangs to hold them tight.
I laugh when watching one
wiggle free from its confinement.
You bite down too late
and puncture two red holes
in your bottom lip.
I know you see my wishes, too,
and my puncture wounds
raw
with disappointment.
But life serves no one.
Here's your tea.
Have a crumpet.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
12:59 am
End: 1:18 am |